Her boss considered that a moment and then nodded slowly. “Well, at least you’ve no reason to see the firefighter again, right? You don’t need the heartache.”
Her nerves jumped again, and Martie could only nod as she rose from the visitor’s chair and moved around it toward the door.
“Martie?”
She jumped, not having realized that Graham had followed her. Slowly she turned to face him, her eyes widening to find him standing so close.
“Yes, sir?” she queried, swallowing nervously and resisting the urge to take a step back.
Graham’s eyes studied her face for a long moment, and then suddenly his hands were on her shoulders and he was kissing her. Martie stiffened, too shocked at first to do anything. When he tried to push his tongue past her lips, however, her instincts kicked in and she placed her hands on his chest, pushing him away.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, stepping backward toward the door. “You’re a married man.”
He ran a hand through his hair and paced back toward the desk, then whirled to face her. “I’m so sorry, Martie. I… I don’t know what came over me. I just… You looked so sad just now.”
“Yeah, I am, but that’s no excuse, sir,” she said firmly, though her whole body had started to shake. The papers she’d brought with her from the lab had fallen to the floor when she pushed him and she rushed forward to gather them up, then stepped quickly back, not wanting to get any closer to him than she should.
“I’m going to leave now. I’ll forgive you this one time—but please don’t do anything like this again,” Martie said, reaching behind her for the door handle. “In fact, I’d say it’s probably a good idea to pretend it never happened.” Without waiting for him to fumble another excuse, she wrenched the door open and fled.
Eleven
“Uncle Chris, do you think this is a good idea?”
Chris looked down at Karalyn and nodded. “Of course it is. You’re doing a damn good thing for a person in need. That’s always a good idea, kiddo.”
Kara drew a breath. “Yeah, but what if she says no? What if she’s one of those people that doesn’t like taking charity?” she asked.
“Then at least you offered,” he replied.
“I suppose so,” she said distractedly, her eyes wandering around the hallway at the medical personnel and patients that were milling about.
They approached room 309 and found the door partially open. Chris raised his hand to knock lightly, pushing the door open a little further when there was no answer. Looking into the room, he noted that Veronica Thompson was laying half on the bed, her breathing deep and even, indicating she was asleep. But her daughter was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s Jessica?” Kara whispered.
Chris nodded toward the wardrobe against one wall. “Check in there,” he replied softly. “Her mom said she hides when she’s scared. I’m going to go wake her mother up.”
Karalyn nodded and walked slowly over to the wardrobe as Chris walked over and put a hand on Veronica’s shoulder. She jumped awake, startled, and gasped when she noticed the bed was empty. He put a finger to his lips and pointed to Kara, then nodded, indicating she could open the wardrobe door.
She reached for the handled and pulled open one side of it slowly. A soft scuttling sound could be heard from inside, and Kara crouched down, saying, “Jessica? Hi, my name is Karalyn. My friends call me Kara. Please don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you. Why don’t you come out and see us? I’ve brought a friend with me to see you and your mom, and he’s a fireman.”
The silence that followed stretched out across one minute, then two. Chris could feel Veronica trembling beneath the hand he had laid on her shoulder.
After five minutes had passed, a tiny little voice said, “There was a fireman in the fire.”
Veronica stifled a sob, and Chris recalled from one of his last conversations with Martie—before he found out what she’d done—that the little girl hadn’t spoken since the night of the fire.
Kara nodded. “Yeah, there was,” she replied.
“The fireman took me out of my safe place.”
“I know. He was trying to get you out of the fire so it didn’t hurt you,” Kara told her.
“But he got hurt. He pushed me down on the floor and laid on me and he got hurt, and I fell asleep ‘cause I couldn’t breathe,” Jessica said softly.
Chris watched a tear slide down Kara’s cheek. She sniffled a little as she said to Jessica, “I know, sweetie. He got hurt so you wouldn’t get hurt. He was trying to protect you.”
“Why are you crying?”
Kara’s breath hitched, and Chris felt his lungs constrict. Kara had been so strong since the funeral. She’d gone back to work the next day, and as far as he knew she hadn’t requested any extra time off—the funeral had been a week ago now. As he’d suspected, Calvin had left his car and the house, and everything in it, to her, though it was not unreasonable to assume that he simply hadn’t gotten around to changing his will to include Tonja. Kara told him she had offered to let Tonja live with her in the house if she went through with her plans to move to Gracechurch, because she considered her a part of her family even though she’d not been married to her father. Tonja hadn’t given her an answer yet, but she was hoping for a yes.
Because she was now going to live in the house she’d grown up in, Kara had decided to sublet her apartment through the end of her lease. When she’d heard that Veronica and Jessica Thompson had no place to go, she immediately resolved to offer the apartment to them.
“I’m crying,” Kara said slowly, “because the fireman that got hurt was my dad.”
“Is he okay?” Jessica asked.
Kara shook her head. “I wish he was, but no. He died, because he got hurt so bad he wasn’t going to get better.”
“Then he should have left me in the safe place. He wouldn’t have got hurt if he’d left me in the safe place.”
“Jessica, honey, it’s not your fault my daddy died,” Kara tried to assure her. “If he hadn’t taken you out of your safe place, the fire would have hurt you. That’s what firemen do—they keep fire from hurting people.”
“Fire is bad. It’s very bad.”
Kara nodded again. “Yeah, fire can be very bad. But you didn’t start the fire, so you’re not the reason my daddy died. It’s not your fault, okay?”
“The person who started the fire is very bad,” Jessica said.
“Yes. The person who started the fire is very bad,” Kara agreed. “Do you think maybe you could come out now? Me and my friend who’s a fireman want to talk to you and your mom.”
“What’s his name?”
“His name is Chris. He’s real nice, I promise. I’ve known him since I was younger than you are,” Kara told her.
“I’m ten years old,” Jessica announced.
Kara smiled. “I know. Chris became friends with my dad when I was just eight years old. I call him Uncle Chris because I don’t have any uncles.”
“I have an uncle. His name is Elliot, but I call him Uncle Eli. I don’t get to see him that much ‘cause he’s a sailor.”
“I bet he’s a great sailor. So…do you want to come out and see us?” Kara prompted.
For a moment Chris thought Jessica would rather stay in the wardrobe, but then there was a sudden flurry of movement as the other door burst open and the little girl came flying out, nearly knocking Kara over in her hurry to get to her mother. She leapt into Veronica’s lap and the young mother held her daughter tightly, tears flowing from her eyes as she mouthed the words “Thank you” in Kara’s direction.
Kara stood and walked over to stand on one side of the bed, and after a few moments of just holding Jessica, Veronica said, “What can I do for you folks?”
Before either Chris or Kara could respond, Jessica turned her head to Chris and said, “Kara said your name was Chris. She said you’re a fireman.”
Chris nodded. “That’s right. Would you like to see my
badge?”
“Firemen don’t have badges. Only policemen have badges.”
“Sure we do,” he replied lightly, reaching into his pocket. He opened the tri-fold wallet and held it out so she could see the badge. Firefighter badges in Gracechurch were identical to those used by the police save for one thing: across the bottom they read “Division of Fire” instead of “Division of Police” (“City of Gracechurch” was across the top, the bearer’s position across the middle; Chris’s badge was now a gold shield that said “Captain”). Jessica reached out for the badge and he let her take it, then she turned in her mother’s lap and scrambled onto the hospital bed, where she lay down staring at the badge in her hand.
Veronica rose shakily from the chair she’d fallen asleep in and wiped at her face. “Baby, Mama’s gonna go talk to these people for just a bit. We’ll be right out in the hall, okay?”
Jessica nodded, so Kara turned and led the way out into the hallway, where she and Chris stood with Veronica pausing on the threshold. Chris could see that she was struggling not to cry again.
“Thank you so much,” she said breathily to Kara. “First couple days we were here was because of the smoke inhalation, but we’re still here near two weeks later because her doctor put her under psychological observation, over her not speaking all this time. You got her talking again—I don’t know how you did it. Nothing I’ve tried has worked and I’m her mother.”
Kara shrugged. “I just spoke softly and got down on her level. In my line of work, I’ve learned that kids really appreciate that. Or maybe she was just ready to break her silence.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m an EMT,” Kara replied.
Veronica sighed. “Well, whatever it was, I’m grateful. Hearing her voice again is like the music of the angels to me.” She looked over at Chris then. “By the way, I hope she doesn’t give you too much trouble when you ask for your badge back. One of the effects of Jessy’s autism is she can get fixated on things, and when she does she has a real hard time letting them go.”
Chris looked into the room at Jessica, who remained in the same position in which he’d last seen her a few minutes ago. He turned back, saying, “I think we’ll be alright. Listen, Ms. Thompson—”
“Call me Ronnie, please,” she broke in.
“Okay, Ronnie,” he replied with a nod. “My niece asked me to bring her here because she has something she’d like to offer you.”
Ronnie looked between them warily. “What’s that?” she asked.
“A place to live,” Kara answered.
The other woman’s eyes widened. “S-say what?” she stuttered.
Kara smiled. “My dad left me his house. It’s actually the house I grew up in, so I’m more than willing to move back into it. But doing that means I have to move out of my apartment, even though my lease isn’t up yet. I know that you and Jessica don’t have any place to go, so I thought I would offer the apartment to you.”
By this time Ronnie had started breathing heavily. She put a hand to her forehead and turned away from them, looking in on Jessica before turning back again. “Where is this apartment? I might not be able to afford the rent—I only work part-time at Walmart.”
“We can help you with your rent and any other expenses for a time,” Chris put in. “The Fireman’s Rescue is offering assistance to everyone affected by this fire.”
She frowned. “I read about that group in the paper after that fireman—well, your daddy, Kara—after he died. But I thought they only helped firemen and their families?” she asked.
Chris nodded. “They do, but their mission is also to lend any assistance they can to civilians whose lives are devastated by fire.”
Ronnie scoffed. “Well, devastated certainly covers it,” she mused. “But are you sure you wanna give up your apartment to me? You don’t even know me.”
Kara nodded. “Ronnie, I don’t have to know you—though I’d certainly like to. You said some really beautiful things about my dad at his funeral, and for someone who hadn’t met him you really captured the spirit of who my dad was. My only regret is waiting so long to make this offer to you, but it’s honestly been a struggle just to get back into my own routine.”
“Not to mention that I didn’t say anything to her about you having nowhere to go until yesterday,” Chris added. “We’ve all had hard times coping since this happened, in one way or another. Kara and the Rescue are simply hoping to make things easier so times aren’t so hard for you anymore.”
Her breath still shallow, Ronnie looked between them with teary eyes. “I… I don’t know how I could ever thank you. You’re being unbelievably kind. Now that we’ve somewhere to go, and Jessy’s talking again, we might finally get out of this darn hospital.”
***
As soon as she’d driven across the Gracechurch corporation line, Martie had felt the kick of adrenaline throwing her heartbeat into overdrive. She was here for one reason only—to talk to Ronnie again—but her nervousness stemmed from the angry look in Chris’s eyes the last time she’d been here. Martie knew she’d hurt him badly with that damn background check—why had she listened to the idiots who’d planted the seeds of doubt in her mind? Graham and Tony… Neither of them had ever met Chris—and she might only have known him a few days, but damn it, she knew him better than they did. He was kind, serious, protective, brave…and loving. He’d been so generous when they’d made love, making sure she had received her pleasure before he’d sought his own. Even that first time—when his emotions had been raw, the wound from losing his friend still fresh—he had brought her to climax first.
The chances of her running into him were slim, as she planned to head back home as soon as she’d seen Ronnie Thompson. But that didn’t stop her heart from hoping she would, or her body from wanting her to patch things up so that he’d be willing to show her again and again how much he wanted her, making her nerves dance at his touch and her limbs weak from loving him…
And that was really the gist of it, wasn’t it? She loved him, as incredible as it was, as hard as it had been for her to admit to herself. Martie was in love with a man who no longer wanted her, because she’d been fool enough to let her insecurities get the best of her. As harshly as she’d spoken to him a week ago, as angry as her accusations had made him, she was certain he’d never even give her a chance to apologize. And while she couldn’t say she wasn’t still curious as to why he’d started that fire twenty years ago, she had come to realize it didn’t matter. Chris was right—he’d turned his life around and what he’d done as an adult, the man he’d become since growing from the headstrong boy he’d been…
…that was what mattered now.
Spotting the entrance to the hospital up ahead, she took a deep breath and forced herself to refocus. Ronnie had answers she needed, though the questions she would have to ask to get them were probably going to frighten the younger woman. It had been pretty clear that while she may have regretted her involvement with the married Kenny, at one time she had loved him. He may have wanted her to get an abortion, but was he the kind of man who would seek a woman out after more than ten years to do what she couldn’t?
Parking in the visitor’s lot, she headed into the hospital and rode the elevator up to the third floor, where she bypassed the nurses’ station and headed straight for room 309. Martie stopped short just inside the threshold when she saw an orderly changing the sheets on the bed, and no sign of Ronnie or Jessica in sight.
“Excuse me,” she said to grab the man’s attention. He paused in the middle of placing the corner of a fitted sheet around the end of the mattress and turned to her. “Can you tell me what happened to the little girl who was in this room?”
The orderly shrugged. “I got no idea. I’m just cleaning the room for the next kid.”
Frowning, Martie turned and headed back toward the nurses’ station. “Excuse me,” she said again, pulling out her badge as she did so. “I’m Lt. Martine Liotta from the Bureau of Fire Safety.
Where are Veronica and Jessica Thompson, the little girl who was in room 309?”
The nurses behind the desk, a girl in her twenties and another probably in her forties, both studied the badge in her hand. “Ronnie and Jessy are gone,” the younger one said after a moment.
“Gone where?” Martie asked.
“Jessica was released this afternoon,” said the other nurse. “Dr. Milner had kept her for observation because of her not speaking and all, and also because the poor things—Jessy and her mother—had nowhere to go. But they got a visit from one of the guys in the fire department and his niece, who offered Ronnie and Jessy a place to stay. Guess knowing she had a new home to go to got the girl talkin’ again, because by the time they left, she sure was a chatterbox.”
Only one of the firefighters she had met had a niece that she knew of, but before her hopes ran away with her, she made herself ask, “Which firefighter was it?”
The young nurse grinned. “That yummy Native American fellow with the great ass—if you’ll pardon me saying. I think his name’s Chris.”
Her co-worker nodded. “Yep, that’s his name. And the girl he was with is Kara Maynard, one of our EMTs. Her daddy’s the one that died in the fire. Poor thing’s had a hard time, losing her father like that. So sweet of her to offer to let Ronnie and Jessy stay in her apartment now she’s living back in her daddy’s house.”
“That was certainly kind of her,” Martie agreed. “Would you mind giving me the Thompsons’ new address?”
The young nurse shared a glance with her older counterpart. “I don’t know that we can give out patient information, Miss Liotta.”
“It’s Lt. Liotta,” she corrected her firmly, “and Veronica Thompson is a material witness in my investigation. That fire was set deliberately and the arsonist is still at large. If he believes she or her daughter can identify him, then they are in very real danger. I need that address.”
“You mean to say they’ve seen him?” the older nurse asked, alarm in her voice. “Oh, no. Jessy’s such a sweet little girl. Who’d want to hurt her?”
Fire Born (Firehouse 343) Page 16