by Susan Stoker
He wasn’t exactly comfortable with the fact Sophie had said she was friends with some of the homeless down there. It wasn’t that he was prejudiced; Lord knew he was the last person to judge others based on something out of their control. But he’d been called to help enough of the men and women who lived on the streets to know that some weren’t exactly right in the head. They belonged in institutions or hospitals that could help them, many weren’t taking the medicine they needed, quite a few were addicted to hardcore drugs, and some were just plain bad people.
The first person he saw had to be Tadd. A gray-and-white speckled Australian Shepherd lay on the concrete sidewalk beside him. A cup, which Chief recognized as coming from the hospital cafeteria, sat next to the man. He was wearing a pair of filthy torn-up jeans, a long-sleeve shirt that was probably white at one point but was now gray, a pair of sneakers with an obvious hole in the toe, and he had a scruffy gray beard, which covered most of his face. His hair hung lankly around his gaunt face, and his hands were covered in dirt and who knew what else.
There was a large bag with most likely all his worldly possessions at his side and he had a cardboard sign that read, “Spare some change so I can feed my dog?”
Chief reached into his pocket and took out the five-dollar bill he’d put there before leaving the hospital. He bent and put it into the box in front of man and dog and said, “I’m a friend of Sophie’s. She said she was coming by here this morning.”
Tadd nodded. “She did.” He gestured to the cup of coffee next to him. “Good woman.”
“I agree,” Chief told the man. “One who has a lot of friends.”
The homeless man’s eyes twinkled for a moment, but he didn’t get up and didn’t look perturbed by the statement. “Good. A girl can’t have too many friends. Especially Soph.”
The men looked at each other for a long moment before a voice said from within the building behind Tadd, “Neither can homeless people!”
Chief looked up at the broken window in surprise, then chuckled. A woman’s face was peeking out from inside the building. Her face was just as filthy as Tadd’s. She was tiny and looked like she couldn’t hurt a flea—but then Chief saw the baseball bat she was holding.
He took a step back from Tadd and nodded with respect and told him, “Just as you protect your own, I protect mine too.”
Tadd smiled. He was missing all but one of his front teeth and looked like the antithesis of Santa Claus, but Chief didn’t feel any dangerous vibes coming from the man.
“Glad our Soph has someone to watch her back,” Tadd said, relaxing against the bricks of the building and scratching his dog’s head. “She’s been bringing us muffins and coffee for a while now. She’s a sweetheart and deserves the best.” Tadd nodded in Chief’s direction. “You a fireman?”
“Yup.”
“Appropriate,” Tadd said, still grinning. “Considering she works with burn victims.”
“You know this building’s not safe,” Chief said, for some reason not wanting to get into his relationship, or lack thereof at the moment, with Sophie.
Another laugh came from inside the building, but when he looked up, he no longer saw the woman who’d made it clear she had Tadd’s back.
“No shit?” Tadd asked sarcastically. “Look, I’ll tell you what I told Sophie the first time she tried to encourage me to go to a homeless center and turn my life around. My life is what it is. It’s not perfect, but I don’t have to pay taxes, don’t have to deal with assholes who don’t know how to drive, and I’m not stuck inside a cubicle for eight, nine, ten hours a day. Can’t say this is what I saw for myself when I was younger, but I’m too old to do anything about it now. The politics inside them shelters are worse than in the White House. Nope, I’d rather take my chances out here on the street and be free of obligations to anyone, than stoop to sniveling for a lousy slice of bread and a cot with a skanky pillow and blanket. You’re right, this building is a piece of crap. The kind of life I live isn’t safe, but it’s mine.”
“You ever take Sophie inside?” Chief asked.
“Fuck no,” Tadd said, sitting up. Now the man was pissed. “I wouldn’t take someone as pure as our Soph inside this hellhole. I hate that my own woman has to be around this shit.” He motioned to the building behind him, where the woman who had been there a minute ago had shown her face. “That’s not to say Sophie ain’t been inside though. Caught her poking around once, chewed her ass out good. This ain’t no place for the likes of her.”
“Why’d she say she was inside?”
“Said she wanted to make sure we were warm enough, had blankets and other shit that she thought we needed,” Tadd answered, rolling his eyes. “Woman’s clueless. Has a heart as big as Texas, but has no sense of self-preservation. Most people would be scared to come near me, nevertheless go inside a dark building which shoulda been condemned years ago. Gave her a tour of our little corner of the world and shooed her out. Made her promise not to go inside again. Ever.”
“What’d she wring out of you for making that promise?” Chief asked.
Tadd grinned again. “Sounds like you know our Sophie.”
The man’s use of the word “our” rankled Chief a bit. He had no claim on her. Not one, but the more he got to know the woman through other people’s eyes, the more he wanted a claim. “My Soph doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to without some sort of negotiation.”
The men eyed each other for a long moment before Tadd nodded and said, “Told her we’d be here on the mornings she worked in both buildings so she could give us coffee and muffins.”
Chief wasn’t surprised. He nodded down at the dog, who’d been watching the entire conversation as if he understood what they were talking about. “You need anything for the mutt? Flea meds? Dog food? Can’t think feeding him muffins is super nutritional.”
Another laugh came from behind the broken window. Tadd shook his head at the woman who was blatantly eavesdropping and said, “Nah, he’s good. Sophie brings a bag of dog food by every once in a while.”
“So…the sign?” Chief asked, gesturing to the piece of cardboard propped up next to the box on the sidewalk.
Tadd shrugged. “It’s what’s expected of homeless people. We’re all beggars, don’t you know.”
It was Chief’s turn to smile. “Right. I appreciate you keeping an eye out for Sophie. She seems to see the world in bright, shiny colors when you and me know it’s not always so.”
“Don’t underestimate her,” Tadd warned. “She might act like everything is sunshine and roses, but that woman has known pain. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t care about an old, homeless, smelly bum like me.”
“That’s true.” Chief made a split-second decision and reached into his pocket for his wallet. He pulled out a business card and held it out to Tadd. “You ever need anything, get ahold of me. If I’m not around, any of my friends at the station will assist. No questions asked.”
Tadd didn’t hesitate before taking the card from Chief. “Not that I have a phone, but I ’preciate it all the same.”
“One more question.”
“Shoot,” Tadd said.
“Who’s the woman who’s been staring down at us from the second floor? I need to be worried about her?”
To Tadd’s credit, he didn’t even look up. “She’s cool.”
“You sure?” Chief questioned. He’d noticed the woman not long after he began to speak to Tadd. He couldn’t see her clearly, she kept most of her body hidden behind the broken window, but she was most definitely listening to their conversation.
“She’s new. Showed up a couple of weeks ago. Doesn’t say much, keeps to herself. She was the one who came and got me when Sophie went into the building to check things out for herself. Kept a few of the more…undesirable folks around here away from us until I could get Sophie out. She’s good people.”
Chief nodded, satisfied for the moment. “Sophie said she was going to get three coffees and four muffins. Figure the coffe
es were for you and your woman with the bat behind you, and three of the four muffins were for you, Charlie, and your woman. What about the other coffee and muffin?”
“She buys the coffee for Blythe, the woman looking down from the second floor, but she says she doesn’t want to get hooked on caffeine when there’s no guarantee she’ll be able to feed the habit every day.” Tadd shrugged. “Sophie knows Blythe won’t drink it, but buys it anyway, figuring someone will.”
“Sophie talk to her?” Chief asked.
“Nope. Blythe doesn’t talk to anyone. She comes down after Sophie leaves and I give her the muffin Soph brings for her, then she disappears.”
“I appreciate you watching out for Sophie,” Chief said.
Tadd shifted and stood up. The process looked painful, but Chief stood still and waited for the older man to get to his feet. Tadd held out a hand to Chief.
Without hesitation, Chief took it in his own, not concerned about how dirty the other man’s hand was.
“It’s been a long time since anyone bothered to take a second look at me. Me and my woman needed to move on from the last place we were staying and we ended up here. I’d been sitting in this exact place for a week and not one person saw me. Oh, some would throw a dollar in my box now and then, but none bothered to truly see me.”
“Until Sophie,” Chief said.
“Until Sophie,” Tadd agreed. He dropped Chief’s hand but remained standing. “I know I don’t look like much. I haven’t had a proper bath in ages. I smell and use my hair to hide behind, but somehow Sophie took notice of me anyway. She stopped, asked me how I was. Asked what my dog’s name was. The next day, she came back with a coffee and two muffins for me and my dog. When she learned about my woman, she brought two coffees and an additional muffin. She came with that not-right-in-the-head janitor one morning, because he wanted to ‘pet the doggy.’ Now Mark comes to talk to me almost every afternoon. That boy doesn’t care what I look like, although it could be argued he wouldn’t know a bad person if he came up and held a gun in his face. When Sophie learned about Blythe, she simply added more coffee and food to her haul.
“You absolutely do not have to thank me for looking out for Soph. We should’ve moved on by now. There’s not as much foot traffic in this area, down by the River Walk there are more tourists, money, and food, but I’m stayin’ ’cause of Soph. She reminds me that I’m a person. I’m alive and here.”
Chief nodded. “Appreciate it all the same.”
Tadd grinned his mostly toothless grin once more. “Welcome.”
“I’m sure I’ll see you ’round, Tadd,” Chief told him.
“I’ll be here,” the homeless man said.
Taking one last look up to the second floor, and seeing the movement of a head pulling back from the window, Chief headed back the way he came. He wanted to talk to Sophie, but he needed to get to work. Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t know where to find her.
Chapter 4
Sophie argued with herself for at least ten minutes before opening her car door and getting out. It was twelve-thirty and she’d decided, with pressure from Quinn, Tory, and Autumn, to come to Station 7 to ask a favor of her hot neighbor.
It was a week after she’d last seen Chief, and she thought he’d hunt her down to either yell at her some more or apologize, but she hadn’t seen him. Mrs. Washington had signed the paperwork, and Diontray was now out of his medically induced coma and officially in the program, but the boy wasn’t doing well psychologically. He wouldn’t talk to his mom, the doctors, psychiatrists, or Sophie. In desperation, she’d even sent Mark in to see if he could get the teenager to open up to him, with no luck.
It had been Autumn who had suggested asking Chief if he would come back to the hospital to talk with Diontray. She’d asked one of her friends, a nurse at the hospital, if she knew anything about him, and the nurse had nothing but good things to say about Chief. She’d informed Autumn that she’d often seen the firefighter visiting with some of the victims he’d rescued from burning buildings. It was enough for her to think that maybe he’d be a good influence on Diontray…or at least give him someone else to talk to.
Sophie hadn’t wanted to, but when Quinn had pointed out that if it would do the teenager some good, who was she to stand in the way, Sophie knew she had to put aside her grudge and do what she could to get Diontray better. If the boy didn’t start showing some spark, some sign that he wanted to get better, his road to getting back on his feet would be twice as grueling.
But first she’d asked Traynesha if it would be okay. Sophie hadn’t really been surprised Chief had gone in to talk to the woman, but she had been surprised Diontray’s mom had such good things to say about him.
“That fireman was so polite. He’s a good man. I wish Diontray’s dad had been half the man I sense your fireman is. If he has the time, I’d love for him to come and talk with my son.”
“He’s not m-my fireman,” Sophie protested.
“Child, the man wasn’t here because my boy was burnt. He was here checkin’ up on you. And if he didn’t care about the kind of person you were, he wouldn’ta bothered. If you think I don’t know that, you’re livin’ in a dream world.”
“I don’t even really know him,” Sophie protested.
“If I were you, I’d get on that,” Traynesha had said. “Literally and figuratively.” Then she’d laughed as if she’d said the funniest thing ever.
Sophie didn’t want to get into all the reasons why it wouldn’t be a good idea…the least of which was because Chief didn’t even seem to like her. She wasn’t interested in having hate sex, no matter how popular it seemed to be in romance novels these days. She’d told the other woman that she’d do her best to see if Chief would come visit Diontray and had left with the promise she’d be back later to check on her.
Now she was at the fire station where Chief worked. The parking lot was full of vehicles and she was nervous. Sophie knew she could’ve called him, but it seemed more polite, considering she was asking him to visit a boy he didn’t know in his free time, to ask in person.
But as Sophie stood in front of what she assumed was the front door of the station, she suddenly wasn’t so sure. She wasn’t a confident person around groups of people in general, and there were bound to be a bunch of firefighters other than Chief in the station.
Deciding she would call him after all, Sophie had turned to go without even knocking on the door when she heard something from inside. It was a dog. He or she wasn’t barking, but whining. A high-pitched noise that sounded distressed.
Looking around, Sophie didn’t hear or see anyone. Not able to stand the pitiful sound, she knocked lightly on the door. She was surprised when the door moved slightly. It wasn’t completely latched. No wonder she could hear the animal inside so easily.
Sophie pushed the door open two inches and said softly, “Hello?” through the crack.
There was no response, so she pushed the door open a bit farther and repeated, “Hello? Is anyone here?”
No one said anything, but Sophie heard the unmistakable sound of toenails running on the floor. She pushed the door open so she could see the animal and almost had a heart attack when she saw a large, pit bull puppy barreling toward her.
She tried to quickly shut the door before she was mauled by the black dog, but she was too slow. The dog jumped up at her. Sophie turned her head and closed her eyes, expecting to feel the pain of a dog’s bite—but instead felt a warm tongue frantically licking any exposed skin it could find.
Sophie giggled and opened her eyes. The pit bull was jumping on her, but to show affection, not hurt her. She bent over and tried to calm the dog down. “Easy…girl,” she said, after checking underneath the dog for its gender. “Where is everyone? Was that you crying earlier?”
As if she could understand her, the dog whirled around and ran back into the building.
Figuring no one was home—someone would’ve come and investigated the commotion if they were—Sophi
e stepped inside the fire station, not sure exactly what to expect.
She went down a short hallway and gasped as she entered a large open room. There were a couple of leather couches around the room and a huge television along one wall. It smelled slightly of smoke—not a cigarette, but like a campfire. A large kitchen sat opposite from the TV and the sitting area, and Sophie could see an industrial-size refrigerator and several plates with half-eaten sandwiches on them strewn about the bar area. A huge table, which could seat around ten people, was next to the kitchen, and it also had several plates on it. The firefighters had obviously had their lunch interrupted by a call.
Hearing the dog start up with the same pathetic whining that made her knock in the first place, Sophie followed the sound down a side hallway. There were several doors but she went straight for the one that was standing open about halfway down. Feeling weird about being in the fire station without permission and without any of the firefighters around, Sophie told herself she would just make sure the dog was okay, then she’d leave. The last thing she wanted was to be caught inside the building if everyone came back.
She peered around the door—and stopped dead in her tracks. She wasn’t alone in the building after all. A woman was sitting on the ground in the corner. She had her knees pulled up and her forehead was resting on them. Her arms were clutched around her legs and she was moaning as she rocked back and forth.
The dog put her nose under the woman’s clasped hands and nudged, making the sad-sounding noise, but the woman’s only reaction was to curl farther into herself.
No longer thinking about how embarrassing it would be to get caught trespassing, Sophie slowly walked into the room.
“Hello?”
There was no response from the woman. Sophie shuffled as close as she dared to the distressed woman and got down on her knees. The dog came over and nudged her hand, then went back to the woman in the corner. She whined more and lay down on her belly, resting her head on the woman’s feet.