by Jamie Denton
Gwen hung up the phone and turned to Jana. “I realize this is short notice, but please tell me you don’t have plans for the weekend.” She slipped a slim gold hoop earring back in place.
“No,” Jana told her. “Nothing.”
Jana greatly admired Gwen. She hadn’t believed her good fortune when she’d learned her promotion would include a transfer to Gwen Reedly’s team in the fire-investigation division. Following her investigation of a high-rise fire two decades ago, Gwen had been responsible for many of the changes in the way fire departments handled emergency rescue operations in Los Angeles County. The blaze had gutted a dozen floors and taken the lives of eight firefighters. The woman was practically a legend in public administration, but she’d also acquired a reputation as a tough-as-railroad-spikes businesswoman.
That knowledge alone made Jana’s task that much more unsettling. How did she explain to a woman who’d risen to Gwen’s level that she couldn’t keep her panties on whenever she came within ten feet of Ben?
“I apologize for the short notice.” Gwen settled back in the faux leather executive chair. “We need a warm body from this division to attend a training meeting in Carmel. It’s a full schedule on Friday, then Saturday until noon. Interested?”
“In spending a weekend in Carmel?” Relieved, Jana smiled. “I wouldn’t consider it an inconvenience.”
“Good. See Heather on the way out and she’ll set everything up for you. Unless you’re psychic, I’m guessing you came in to see me about something. What’s up?”
Jana settled her elbows on the arms of the chair, praying for the strength to survive whatever came next. “You need to be aware of a potential situation.”
Gwen removed her tortoise-shell glasses and set them on the desk. “Are you having trouble getting the squad to cooperate?”
Jana shook her head. “No,” she said. “Actually, they haven’t been too bad, considering. I have a concern about a conflict of interest.”
Gwen leaned forward and clasped her hands together. “What kind of conflict?”
“I’m involved with one of the firefighters at Trinity Station.”
The warmth faded from Gwen’s expression, replaced by concern. “I see,” the older woman said carefully. “May I ask exactly how involved you are with him?”
Jana’s apprehension tripled. She had hoped to avoid this part of the conversation. The embarrassing part. “Intimately involved.”
Once again, she had to face the ramifications of her stubborn nature. If she hadn’t taken that stupid dare, she never would’ve had to admit something so personal, not only to her boss, but to the woman she admired. Would she ever learn? The next time someone dared her to do anything, she was walking away, if only to save her from herself.
“You should’ve said something when I assigned you this case,” Gwen said with the barest hint of censure. “I could’ve given it to Davis or Walker.”
She pulled in a steadying breath. “I’m not proud of the fact,” Jana said, “but I didn’t know him when you gave me the case.”
The sound of male voices drifted through the open door. Gwen stood and crossed the office, quietly closing the door. To read her the riot act or ensure their conversation remained private? Jana hoped for the latter. This was not the kind of gossip, nor the impression, she wanted spread among her co-workers.
Gwen returned, taking the vacant chair next to Jana. “Explain this to me.”
Jana let out a sigh, semi-relieved. “I met him Friday night,” she said. “I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see him again, but…” But he has this way of making me insane with need. Jeez, I just can’t keep my hands off him.
“But,” Gwen finished for her, “you clicked.”
“And then some,” Jana muttered.
Gwen didn’t appear angry, but her dark-brown eyes widened a fraction. Definitely not encouraging.
“We didn’t talk about our jobs,” Jana continued, “so I was clueless about him being a firefighter. I showed up at Station 43 yesterday morning and found out he’s not only a lieutenant with the department, but the scene commander in charge at the time of the incident.”
Gwen’s displeasure became obvious. “You know, Jana,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot and seen more, but this is the first time an investigation’s been compromised because my lead investigator is sleeping with a lieutenant in the fire department.”
Jana had her own list of firsts she had no intention of sharing with her boss. “How should I handle the situation?”
“Well,” Gwen said, “we definitely have a problem, especially if you determine fault lies with this guy. No one is available to take over for you, either. Davis and Walker both have fresh assignments. I haven’t even started finding people for your team, so that eliminates the possibility of allowing you to distance yourself from the on-site investigation.”
Gwen was thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head as if discarding an idea. “I’ve got three supervisors on the Terminal Island industrial complex case, and can’t spare anyone there since we’re still looking at around three to four weeks to wrap up.”
“The nature of the Station 43 incident alone means we can’t postpone it,” Jana reminded Gwen. “I’ve already started conducting formal interviews and there are a few things I’d like to reexamine in a more relaxed atmosphere, if I can. I just need to know how you want me to handle it, under the circumstances.”
“Look, Jana, I trust your judgment or I wouldn’t have given you such a tough assignment in the first place. I should pull you off the case, but I have no one else to fill in for you.”
Gwen did not look pleased, but at least she hadn’t said she should send Jana packing. For now, at least, her job was safe.
The older woman stood and returned to her desk. “You’ve made me aware of the problem, and I appreciate it. I’ll personally conduct the follow-up of your findings on any non-compliance matters. To cover ourselves, I am going to have to place a call to the captain and let him know what’s going on.”
Jana stifled a groan. If the captain was like any other members of Trinity Station, he probably already knew his lieutenant and the supervising OSHA rep were tangling the sheets together. She didn’t relish having his suspicions confirmed or her credibility questioned, but she couldn’t ignore that what she felt for Ben might be more than a garden variety one-night stand.
“In the meantime,” Gwen said, picking up the glasses she’d discarded earlier, “continue with the case. If you run into trouble, I’ll see what we can do.”
Jana stood, not exactly relieved, but she certainly felt better since she wasn’t hiding anything from her boss. “Thank you, Gwen,” she said. “I’m really sorry about this.”
“Jana?” Gwen called, stopping Jana before she reached the door. “One question. What are you going to do if your findings indicate human error and the lieutenant is the one responsible?”
She’d been dreading the prospect herself. “The only thing I can do,” she told Gwen. “File my report and hope for the best.”
BY THE TIME Ben arrived at the incident scene, Jana was already waiting for him, parked amid a sea of pickup trucks and stake-bed vehicles weighed down with building materials. He pulled the red state-issued sedan behind her car and cut the engine.
With the window rolled down, he rested his arm on the door and watched her leave her sporty white coupe. Her hips swayed gently as she walked toward him, a clipboard tucked beneath her arm. The black slacks she wore, along with low-heeled, sensible shoes, robbed him of the enticing view of her shapely legs he’d been anticipating. A short red blazer and black blouse downplayed the curves he couldn’t wait to touch.
Not only had his plan last night backfired on him—big time—but he had an acute case of lust-induced sleep deprivation which had put him in a sour mood. The constant clawing need in his gut hadn’t helped, either, something he blamed on Jana. His minor obsession with her had tripled. She almost constantly occupied his mind, haunting what little
sleep he’d managed and filling his head with ridiculous musings about her being a part of his life.
For as long as their involvement might last, he amended. Or at least until she started nagging him about the dangers of his job. Like the others before her, she’d eventually wake up to the fact that nothing would ever change his mind about being a firefighter and she’d be out the door.
The thought did little to improve his mood.
Ben exited the car and slammed the door shut. “Still on the case, I see.”
She stopped short at his brusque tone, but he didn’t much give a rip at the moment. He wanted her off the investigation. Given his current state of frustration, getting laid had a whole lot to do with it, that he wouldn’t deny. But, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about her poking inside a gaping wound, either.
Using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she looked up at him. A saccharine smile suddenly curved her lips.
She took a few steps toward his car and leaned against the front end, casually crossing her ankles. “You were expecting someone else?” she sassed.
He expelled a harsh breath. “It would’ve been nice.”
“You’re a ray of sunshine this morning.” Her smile deepened and one of her eyebrows winged upward. Steely determination gave her green eyes a hard cast. “Feeling a bit on edge, are you?”
She sounded way too chipper. And seductive. He’d have to be deaf to ignore the silky quality of her voice. His annoyance spiked and put him in motion. He circled the car and moved in close.
The flare of desire in her eyes and her sharp intake of breath had the same effect on him as if she’d brushed her fingers over the fly of his trousers. Her hand landed on his chest, but she didn’t attempt to push him away. Instead, she spread her fingers over his heart. Damn if he didn’t feel her touch clear to his cold, dark soul.
“You wouldn’t be in such a pissy mood if you’d stuck around last night,” she hissed.
The reminder had his body instantly flexing, giving him something else to concentrate on other than the uncomfortable emotions suddenly crowding him. She had no idea what it had cost him to walk away from her, what it had cost him to bring her pleasure and ignore his own needs. Hours of sleep and an edginess he couldn’t afford to suffer while on the job. “I would’ve stayed if this damned investigation wasn’t so important to you.”
She pushed him away this time, then scooted off to the side a few feet. “I have a job to do, Ben.”
He resented her determination. He despised the fact he couldn’t hold her whenever he wanted to because of her refusal to dump the case. “Let someone else do it.”
She let out a sigh, then shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Why the hell won’t you let it go?” he growled, taking his frustration out on her.
She shifted the clipboard and held it in front of her. “Maybe I should ask you the same question,” she said, a hardness in her voice that equaled the glare she fired his way. “Is there something you don’t want me to know?”
Plenty. He’d been the one in charge that day. Fitz had died on his watch because he should’ve known better than to send him in on a two-in/two-out with a relative greenhorn, who was unaware of Fitz’s willingness to risk his hide for a save. Ben had made a bad call and he didn’t want her reminding him.
“Answer me, Jana,” he demanded, purposely ignoring her question.
The chilled ocean breeze caught a stray wisp of her hair and blew it across her face. She impatiently pushed it back in place. “I tried. That should make you happy.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re still here.”
Her lips tightened into a thin line and her eyes glittered with temper. The clipboard went sailing through the open window of the department sedan.
“Only because there isn’t anyone to cover for me,” she said, keeping her voice low as she advanced on him. “What you don’t know is that I was very recently promoted to the fire investigation division. This case you’re so anxious for me to dump is my first solo assignment. But I went in and told my new boss that I had a conflict of interest because I’m sleeping with the man in charge of the incident I’m investigating.”
“Aw, hell,” he muttered. Guilt rode him hard. “Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? Or last night?” He still didn’t like her snooping around, but he liked to think he wouldn’t have given her such a hard time if she’d been up-front with him. But he honestly didn’t know if it would’ve made a difference. No other woman had ever twisted him up in so many knots he could barely breathe. Jana managed that and more with something as simple as a glance in his direction or the sound of her voice.
“It’s bad enough the men know we’re seeing each other. I don’t want to even think about how that affects my credibility with them. But how much respect do you really think they’d show me if they found out I was new to FID? Not much, I’ll bet.” She folded her arms in front of her. “Forget the impression I might have given my boss about me not being capable of handling a tough case because of what’s going on between us, but by now, your captain is probably fully aware of the situation.”
He swore. Not because Rick would learn about his relationship with Jana, but because for the first time, he saw clearly the problems his determination to lure her back into bed had caused her. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t want your damned apology,” she snapped at him. “God, you are so arrogant. You really think I’d put my career on the line for you?”
“That’s not what—”
“I realized I had no choice. This is all about ethics. My personal ethical boundaries, in particular. I could’ve lied about us, but when I make my decision, I don’t want someone questioning it because of our involvement. I refuse to jeopardize my integrity because of my feelings for you.”
She spun around and stormed off toward her car. He caught up with her before she could yank open the door and escape.
“I am sorry, Jana,” he said again.
She crossed her arms and refused to look at him. He lifted his hands to settle them on her shoulders, but stuffed them in the front pockets of his trousers instead.
“I promise I’ll respect your decision and keep my distance until you finish the inspection.” Because, he realized, he cared about her, too.
She turned to face him. “No pressure?”
“No pressure,” he promised. He’d keep his word, even if it killed him.
10
THE OVERCAST SKY shielded the warmth of the early autumn sun and stirred up a cool breeze. The gloom suited Jana’s mood, although her earlier irritation had eased somewhat since her outburst. The sting of frustration still plagued her, though, despite Ben’s promise of no more pressure. Whether he understood she was talking about both the investigation and their relationship, she wasn’t certain, but she had no desire to resurrect the subject again. If things went smoothly, her investigation could be wrapped up in another day or two. Provided they both survived the outcome, they’d be free to explore whatever was happening between them.
Walking alongside Ben toward the base of the foothills to survey the scene, Jana shivered. Her lightweight red blazer offered little warmth. Ben obviously felt the change in temperature, as well, because he tucked his hands into the pockets of the twill bomber-style jacket that matched his dark blue uniform trousers.
His expression turned grim the closer they came to the damage, reminding her of the loss he and the others had suffered. Returning to the scene had to be difficult for him, but she had to keep her concern for his feelings to a minimum. Forcing herself to concentrate on the incident commander who’d been in charge and not on the man who made her pulse race would not be easy.
Carpenters, landscapers and other building professionals littered the area, filling the air with shouted conversations, the pounding of hammers and the drone of power tools. Remnants of the acrid scent of the burn mingled with the smell of freshly cut wood and newly tilled earth in a morbid amalgam
ation of death and re-birth. A little farther up the hillside on the opposite side of the street, she spied a woman in a dark suit she guessed to be an insurance adjuster. The woman was speaking to a middle-aged couple, assessing the relatively minor repairs needed to the exterior of the residence.
Ben came to a halt midway up the hill and together they stood quietly surveying the area. Although Jana had apologized to him for losing her cool, she still sensed an awkwardness developing between them, in part, she suspected, from the strain of having to revisit the horrible events that had taken place. “Walk me through what happened that morning.”
“The initial alarm sounded around eight-thirty,” he said. “We were the first squad to respond to the initial 911 call. As soon as we arrived on scene, I assessed the situation and radioed for assistance.”
Jana smoothed her hand over the wrinkled pages of the incident report still fastened to the clipboard she’d chucked during her earlier snit. “Within thirty minutes of the first alarm, three more alarms had been struck. Is that right?”
“We had a lot working against us, and weren’t capable of handling it alone,” he said. “An unusually hot summer and a lengthy heat wave had pretty much dried out the area. Add in mild, but steady, wind coming off the Pacific, air temperature approaching eighty degrees that morning, and you’ve got a fast-spreading fire.”
He hadn’t seemed defensive, but the tensing of his shoulders indicated otherwise. After her reaction to his questioning her judgment, she didn’t fault him now that his own had come under fire.
“Most of these were older homes.” He indicated the still-intact two-story brick structure across the street where she’d spotted the claims adjuster. “The building code for wood-shingle roofs didn’t apply when they were constructed. The structures we did save, or that have minimal damage,” he continued, “were either newly built or the owners had replaced the old wood shingles with tile.”