Up in Smoke (Firehouse Three, #4)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Dion didn’t know how to show respect, sir.” Mikel hooked his thumbs in his pockets.

  Someone had eyes on the prize.

  Good.

  While she wouldn’t mind establishing a base of operations here, Alice had no desire to be the person running things. Her business was too global for such a short-sighted plan. She needed a man. Someone with brains, ambition and loyalty. Oh, she had no illusions about how fast Mikel would put a bullet in her at the first opportunity. She’d always have to watch her back. At least until he learned.

  “Correct, Mikel.” She leaned against the desk. “Show me respect and I will respect you. It is a mutually beneficial partnership we find ourselves in. Brent?”

  Brent reached behind the desk and pulled out two briefcases. It was all that was left of their last batch. These were supposed to be samples, but it was all they had left to market themselves now.

  “I want you to stop peddling pot and introduce your clients to a new drug. I call it Myst. It is my own creation.” She nodded and Brent began handing out bags of product. “Be stingy with what you give out to taste. It takes very little to hook a customer. I’ve already had Brent separate out a few tasting kits. These are slivers of a full pill.”

  “What are we looking to charge?” Mikel asked.

  “Make the first sale cheap. Five, ten, fifteen bucks for a pill. After that, let them know that it’s in high demand and more will cost them.” She needed a hungry line of clients.

  She ran through the breakdown of costs, creating a higher paying pipeline and what she expected each to bring back. It was only Tuesday. By the weekend, they’d be turning a double profit, and everyone would be talking about Myst.

  Brent went over his expectations for when to deliver more and they took questions. She watched more than a few lick the powder for a tiny taste. At the end, she dismissed the men, satisfied with the presentation.

  “Mikel, a word?”

  Brent lifted his brows, but wisely said nothing. She could see his thoughts written so plainly on his face. He wanted out of the trenches and back to the safety of making the drug.

  “Yes, Mr. Smoke?”

  “I have something I’d like you to look into for me.” She flicked open her clutch and pulled out the photograph. “This man. I want to know where he is. We can’t have any more incidents like what Dion created. Use your most discrete people. Delegate your distribution to someone else. This man takes priority.”

  “Can do, boss.”

  Everything was falling into place.

  15.

  Chaz stroked Payton’s back, her weight pressing him farther into the sofa cushions.

  “You warm?” He peered under the edge of the blanket she’d tossed over them.

  “Mm-hm.”

  He kissed the top of her head and wished they could stay like this. Comfortable. Naked. Together. But there were problems and dangers at their door that couldn’t wait. Questions that needed answering.

  “Why the letter?” He stared at the ceiling.

  Payton sighed and drew a circle around his nipple.

  “Because...I’ve put in my request for transfer out of undercover. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not made for undercover work. Yeah, I’m good at it, but I don’t want to be. I was strong armed into it.”

  “What do you want to do?” Chaz tugged her hair, making her look up at him.

  “Something good. I’d be happy with a desk job, honestly. With my experience and degree, I’m really only fit for something in law enforcement.”

  “Would that make you happy?”

  “Yeah, I think it would. There’s lots of things I can do, I’ve just been so stuck in what I have to do. Webb—my handler and case agent—will pitch a fit, but whatever. This job, the undercover stuff, it’ll kill me if I don’t get out.”

  Chaz squeezed her so tight she protested. The idea of losing her...

  No.

  He was all for her transferring to something safer. A desk job sounded fantastic.

  “How soon until you can make a move?” Until she could be home, with him, for good.

  “They have to catch our guy. Then we’ll have a period where we make our case. I’ll have a massive amount of debriefing to do. And eventually a trial. But...couple weeks? A few months? I’m going to do everything I can to avoid any more undercover assignments.”

  “When this is over, where will you be?” Where was her home? Her real home. Not the place she was calling home for this gig. She had to have somewhere, didn’t she? Someplace that wasn’t part of the job, that wasn’t wrapped up in all of this mess.

  “What do you mean, where will I be?” She frowned up at him.

  “I mean, will you be here, or California, or Florida, or—”

  “Dallas has always been my home office, I’ve been reporting to them the whole time.”

  “So...you have a place here?”

  “No, I don’t have any home, actually. I’ve rented a few places month to month when I was between cases, but that’s never been for long.”

  “Do you want to stay here, or go to another city?” Chaz’s stomach tightened. He’d always seen himself at Firehouse Three. It was where his father had worked, and it was where he wanted to stay. But if Payton had to leave, he’d go with her.

  “I don’t know.” She crossed her arms over his chest, pillowing her cheek on her hands. “I guess...it depends on what...we do.”

  “I’d like for you to stay here. I’d prefer it if you moved back in with me, or got a place close.” He stroked her hair and tried to ignore the way his mouth dried out. What if she changed her mind?

  “I’d like that. I think...you and I need to slow down, though. A lot has changed, and...I think we need to catch our guy first. Then...you and I can sit down and figure out what we want.”

  Chaz knew what he wanted. It was staring at him out of big, brown eyes he wanted to lose himself in for the rest of his life. For the first time, he didn’t need to take things slow, but she did. It was an odd reversal, but he was willing to give her that. Show her he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “You need to go,” Payton said softly.

  “Why?” Hadn’t all of this started because he hadn’t come with her in the first place?

  “Because if Tate comes back and finds you here, he’ll put you under protective custody. Total lockdown.”

  Chaz rolled the idea around in his head. He’d like to have a lot of time alone with Payton. But he’d promised to pick up extra shifts over the holidays. If he didn’t go into work... Fuck.

  “Abby asked Tate out, by the way.”

  “What?” Chaz blinked at her.

  “Yeah. I was busy feeling sorry for myself when he said you’d stayed at Abby’s that my jaw nearly hit the floor when he told me that.”

  “Abby and Kyle had a fight.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “She was hiding from the fight by using me.”

  “Are things weird?”

  “Because of you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Abby and I talked about it. I get the idea that...she would never have acted on those feelings. She has a serious no dating firemen policy, and I don’t blame her.”

  “I’m going to try very hard not to be jealous.”

  “I’ll call Nate or one of the other guys and stay somewhere else.”

  “I trust you.”

  “I’m glad. I would still prefer to not get stuck between Abby and her brother.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse than we ever were.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Payton chuckled, her smile warming him.

  “Fine. I’ll go, but I need some way to hear from you. I can’t go more than a day or two without knowing you’re okay.”

  “I’ll talk to Tate. And watch yourself, okay?”

  “I’d rather watch you.”

  He kissed her lips and she sighed.

  He didn’t have to go right this second, did he
?

  They had a little time...

  “I’ve got eyes on him, Mr. Smoke.”

  Alice leaned back in her chair. Mikel was resourceful and eager to please. A lot like a puppy. Only this one had fangs. So long as she stroked the man’s ego just right, he’d become her loyal guard dog.

  “Good. Still no sign of the woman?” Alice grimaced. She didn’t like giving Payton her name, but it’d been necessary when Dion was in the picture. She still needed to gauge how much the foot soldiers knew.

  “No. He left the other fireman’s house at eleven-fifteen, they’ve made two stops and now he’s at the firehouse.”

  Damn.

  Alice was going to have to go about this the messy way. At least she had disposable people for this act. She couldn’t allow Payton to turn the phone over to the authorities. Yes, her safety measures would protect the data, but Alice needed it in her possession. If people found out she no longer had the leverage in her pocket, if the imminent danger was gone, she’d lose many of her customers. Who did business with whom wasn’t always an issue of supply and demand. Sometimes it was having her hand on her buyer’s balls, telling them when to buy and how much to buy. Unlike the typical drug market, designer pharmaceuticals were the Wild West. Sometimes Alice had to create her buyers.

  “What would you like for us to do, Mr. Smoke?”

  “Proceed with the plan. Let me know when it’s finished.”

  “Will do.”

  “And Mikel?”

  “Yes?”

  “Delegate. You’re far too valuable to be hands-on. Understand?”

  “Yes, Mr. Smoke.”

  She hung up.

  When she got her hands on Payton...Alice was going to make the bitch pay. Not only was this a waste of time and energy, she’d lost product. Oh, she’d get it back. It would take a while, but Alice knew enough people. She had enough dirt that the odds favored her procuring what she wanted. But only if she got the phone back.

  It all came back to that.

  Get Payton.

  Get the phone.

  Get out of this damn mess.

  Delegate.

  She needed a massage. And the contact for the man with the magic fingers was in her damn phone.

  Payton would pay.

  “You’re back on duty?”

  “I am.” Chaz very carefully kept the smile off his face. He held the mess hall door for Abby, ignoring Kyle glaring daggers at him. He’d say hi to Nate later. Best to avoid Kyle for now. “I’m going to take over driving and manning the truck for now. Mostly auxiliary stuff.”

  “Cool.” Abby grinned.

  The mess hall was filled with a mix of guys going on-shift and those coming off. The TV against the back wall played some movie that looked vaguely familiar. One of the guys on the other hazmat crew had a cousin that reviewed movies and often let new stuff out of his sight long enough to make the rounds at the firehouse.

  Abby kept pace with him to the kitchen bar, where she dumped her latest knitting project on the counter and began frowning at balls of yarn and some sort of lumpy creation.

  Chaz did a walk-through of the kitchen and freezer. Each shift had house duties, like grabbing groceries and cleaning up. Since cooking usually fell to either Chaz or Nate on their shift, he liked to do a quick peek at what they had on hand.

  Judging by the stacks of bacon in the walk-in, someone must have hit the sale he’d seen in the local supermarket circular.

  Good.

  The way the guys went through bacon was unreal.

  Maybe he’d do a baked potato soup. Easy. With lots of fresh, crumbly bacon bits.

  “You know I wiped everything down to regulation?”

  Chaz glanced up from the stove to the tanned, grinning man blocking his way out of the galley kitchen.

  “Rios! When did you get back, man?” Chaz slapped the other man on the shoulder.

  “Yesterday morning.” Xander Rios leaned against the counter. He might be the shortest man in Firehouse Three, but he was built like a tank and hard as nails. The former Marine was one of Chaz’s favorite people, next to his best friend Nate.

  “How was the family?”

  “Good.” Xander’s smile turned sad, but only for a second. He went back home to El Paso like clockwork every three months, but never for long. Chaz didn’t know the story behind it, but it was clear going home left Xander in a funk, after which he liked to work himself almost to death. “Hey, I’m going to pick up Drake’s shift on New Year’s. I guess his girl is worried about all the fireworks and the animals?”

  “Sounds about right.” Chaz visualized the schedule. He’d put Xander on a few swing shifts. If he picked up Drake’s NYE hours, then Chaz needed to rework a few things, swap some guys around so that Xander didn’t spend five days straight at the station.

  “Hey, Abby. What’s this about a date?” Xander asked.

  Abby glanced up from her knitting, a wrinkle of annoyance marring her brow. Her brother was on the same shift as Xander.

  “What did Kyle say?” She frowned.

  “You know. Kyle stuff.” Xander grinned.

  Chaz kept his mouth shut. Abby simply shrugged and answered Xander’s questions with as few details as possible. Things between Chaz and Abby had been...easy. Good. He didn’t know if it was for real or not, but he hoped either way that Tate treated her right. She deserved someone who’d appreciate her. That man wasn’t Chaz.

  One by one, the guys on Xander’s shift trickled out until Chaz nearly had to boot Xander in the ass.

  “What do you think his deal is?” Abby asked, watching the door swing silently back and forth in his wake.

  “What do you mean?” Chaz braced his hands on the counter.

  “Come on. You see it. I know you do.”

  “I think...war changes people.”

  “Duh.” She flicked a bit of yarn at him. “He just always looks so sad when he comes back.”

  “Yeah.” Chaz glanced at the wall between the two sets of doors leading into the mess hall. A dozen yards dedicated to the retired and fallen firefighters of station three. His dad’s face smiled back at him.

  “Why even go, then?” Abby sighed.

  Chaz could see the struggle clearly on her face.

  He wanted to say something, but this was one area he didn’t dare poke at. Everyone tip-toed around the awkward, on-going sibling rivalry. Abby and Kyle fought like cats and dogs, so the accusations had been bandied about enough that they were all aware of the quagmire between the two. Dealing with the siblings was tricky at best, volatile at worst. Kyle and Abby would have to come to a resolution someday on their own. Chaz didn’t know what it would take, but they’d hopefully get there.

  Lord knows things between Payton and Chaz used to be a perfect mix of high- and low-pressure fronts.

  “How’s Payton?” Abby asked.

  “Huh? Oh, uh, no idea.”

  Abby’s stare bored into him.

  “What?” He swiped the bit of discarded yarn off the counter and into the garbage.

  “Really, Chaz?”

  “What?”

  “You were gone for like, six hours and when you came back you had long scratches down your arm and you smelled like...I don’t know. Girly.”

  Chaz swallowed.

  Well, hell.

  “Things are...good.”

  “Really? Because your face when you looked at that letter was pretty scary.”

  Chaz pushed his hand through his hair, then leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the counter. He still wasn’t quite sure what would have made Payton think that he wasn’t all in. Maybe he hadn’t...shown her?

  “Come on, I live vicariously through your love lives.” Abby mirrored his pose, leaning forward.

  “You have Tate. How’d the date go?”

  “It wasn’t a date. We had coffee. He’s cool.” She shrugged. “We’ll probably go out a few times then stop calling each other.”

  “You don’t know that.”

&nbs
p; “He’s a workaholic. I’m spinning like six plates right now between herping, the reptile rescue, work, knitting, helping mom and now playing B&B to your sorry ass. At best, we’ll go to a movie, have dinner.” Abby shrugged. “So, Payton. What’s the deal? Spill.”

  “She thought because I didn’t go with her, that I didn’t want to be with her.” He lifted his shoulders. “I don’t want to be useless and in the way. At least here I can work and be on-call.”

  “Ah.” Abby picked up her knitting and slid the needles around, weaving yarn magic.

  “Ah-what? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I see this with Kyle all the time. Whenever he starts dating someone new, he’s glued to her hip. They’re always together. You and Payton, it seems like you guys have been in sync for a long time, but you’re just now owning it, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, she likely needs, or wants, all that togetherness, bonding time. It’s not logical. Do you know how many times I’ve watched Kyle drag himself off to go shopping with his latest girlfriend when he really just needs to sleep? Too many.”

  “I want to be with her, but...” Chaz glanced at the guys engrossed in whatever movie or show it was they were watching. “With everything going on, I just thought it would be better if no one had to worry about me.”

  “Logic doesn’t play a role in this, Chaz. Stop being reasonable.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  The rest of his thought was cut off by the sudden blare of a horn.

  Abby dropped her knitting.

  Chaz crossed to the door in two strides, the rest of the unit at his back.

  When it came to a call, no one hesitated.

  Mikel stared through the lens at the open bay doors of Firehouse Three.

  They were a little off as far as timing went, but otherwise things were going well. Now, he just had to determine if the guy he was after was leaving, or if he was staying behind. Once he put on that fireman get-up, there’d be no telling him apart from the rest and then this whole routine would be pointless.

  He had a lot of nibbles going on. People asking questions.

  Where was Dion?

  Who was this new...dude?

  What the hell was going on?