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Through The Window

Page 8

by Wendy Campbell


  “Get over it,” Middleton hollered back. “At least he missed it, which is more than you’d have done.”

  A block away from the intersection of Main and 8th, Jordan pressed the Opticom sensor to turn the traffic light green.

  ****

  Mel sat in Julia’s spiffy little Beamer. Anna, who’d lost the rock-paper-scissors game, leaned forward from the back seat and described the car fire in great detail. Part of her story was even true.

  “Most people would watch.” Anna looked at Mel. “Not you. You jump into a burning car. Good thing Jordan got you out before you got toasted.”

  “Jordan?” Julia asked.

  “Yep. The guy Melanie was gaga over for years. Don’t you remember when she broke into his house to steal his jersey?”

  Julia glanced over with wide eyes. “That Jordan?”

  Blood rushed to Mel’s face.

  “Is he hot?” Julia’s comment was quick and predictable.

  “Sizzling.” Mel sighed.

  “What’s his status?”

  Anna leaned forward. “Single, not dating. Penny Dumont has been mooning over him for the last two years, since he got the job with the fire department, but it’s one sided. He doesn’t talk about his time in California. Even Kathy Jo couldn’t get the details out of him, and she’s even better at snooping than her ma.” Anna snorted. “Honestly, if the guy would talk, even if he just made some crap up, half the women in town would lose interest. Anyway, Mr. Silence bought his aunt’s old farmhouse off Maxwell Road and moved in.”

  “Aren’t you just a well of information?” Mel asked. She sounded cynical, but she couldn’t help it. Just the thought of Jordan twisted her insides and not in a good way. “Do you know his shoe size too?”

  “Want me to find out? I’m pretty sure he has good-sized feet. You know what they say.” Anna wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Why aren’t you dating him?” Julia asked . “You could really use some mind-blowing sex. You’ve been stressed out for weeks.”

  “Jordan Stone is the last person I’d have—” The word sex stuck in Mel’s throat. “A fling with. At the accident,” she said, trying to focus on the conversation and not her pounding heart, “he thought I was Yvonne.”

  “Did you correct him?” Julia asked.

  Mel hesitated. “No. Not really.”

  “Which is it, no, or not really?”

  “I had to talk to someone else. Besides, he thought I was in shock. He wouldn’t have listened anyway.”

  “Melanie, have you forgotten everything I taught you?” Julia waved her hand. “You have a hot fireman in your hands. Instead of flirting or stroking his ego, you run away.”

  “I did not run.” She waited a beat. “I walked.” And nearly fell on her butt. Only Jordan could make her that clumsy.

  “How long since you’ve had sex?” Julia asked.

  Mel blinked. “When did this turn into an inquisition?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Yeah, answer the question,” Anna quipped.

  “A while,” Mel muttered, and neither of her friends said a word. This was torture. “Okay, fine. It’s been a few months.” Julia gave her the look that said she wasn’t getting off that easy. “Okay, more than a few months, but I’ve been busy, and—”

  “I think we’ve found the problem,” Anna announced. Before Mel could come up with a quick retort, the wail of a siren filled the air.

  “I think we’ve found the answer,” Julia purred. The fire engine appeared on their left. Suddenly the siren was replaced by earsplitting, staccato blasts. Julia waited at the intersection, and they watched in silence as the huge engine approached from the right and slowed for the intersection. The glare from the streetlights made it impossible to see the driver.

  Chapter Eight

  Jordan could see the plume of oily black smoke stretching to the sky, fed by greedy flames. The dispatcher confirmed they were first in.

  “Boo-yaw!” Middleton pumped his fist in the air. “We got one!”

  “About time, Captain,” Standish called from the back.

  They cleared the final corner. The abandoned farmhouse was partially engulfed in flames and the knowledge hit Jordan like a punch in the gut.

  Arson.

  The word brushed over him, making his skin burn. His throat went dry. The adrenaline rush that always came with a fire call turned into an odd kind of icy calm, powerful, and waiting to be let loose. He got this sometimes, this sixth sense that made his body feel poised for battle. He didn’t like the feeling, or what it meant. The first time he’d refused to listen to it and he’d paid more than he ever thought possible.

  With every nerve on high alert, Jordan approached the deserted parking lot.

  “Turn in here,” Middleton ordered.

  For the first time in his career, Jordan debated arguing with his captain. The second entrance was fifty feet down the road, but Middleton was so hyped he wouldn’t listen to anything. Besides, what could Jordan say? “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” made him sound like a chickenshit, so he turned.

  Ten feet into the parking lot, their world exploded. A light that seemed bright as the sun blinded him, while the engine rocked back and forth like a child’s toy. The sound was deafening, even with protective headphones. When the light and noise faded, the windshield was still intact, thank God, but the south half of the farmhouse rained down around them.

  Middleton motioned for Jordan to drive to the far end of the parking lot. As he complied, Middleton grabbed the mike and talked as he strapped on his helmet, his excitement now threaded with caution. “This is Engine 2. An explosion eliminated side B of the structure. Flames are visible from sides C and A. The structure is partially collapsed and eighty percent involved.”

  “Give us an extra sixty feet, Stone,” Middleton ordered. “We’re going to surround and drown.”

  Groans came from the guys behind him, but Jordan wasn’t about to complain. They’d be pulling a lot of hose, even though the building couldn’t be saved. By surrounding it with engines, they could spray the fire and the perimeter to keep it from spreading. They’d also be a safe distance away in case there was another explosion.

  Jordan’s foreboding disappeared as quickly as it came, but he didn’t feel better. This fire reeked of arson. He parked the engine and flipped off the siren. He swung his door open, relieved to see Engine 3 pull into the parking lot. Within fifteen minutes, they’d have three more engines from the nearby districts, but a lot could happen in fifteen minutes. Grabbing his helmet and air pack, he jumped out of the rig, set the wheel chocks, and helped Tanner hook up the hose. It was going to be a long night.

  ****

  Julia waited for the traffic light to reset. “Was that Jordan?”

  “I don’t know,” Anna said. “I couldn’t see.”

  “Firefighters are absolutely scrumptious.” Julia winked at her. “Can’t beat an expert when it comes to heat.”

  “Give us the deets,” Anna cajoled, playing along with a smirk on her face.

  A muffled boom made them all look at each other. Julia rolled down her window, but all they heard were more sirens. A second fire engine raced through the intersection.

  Anna shrugged. “Tell us about your fling with the firefighter.”

  “I never dated one.” Julia admitted, putting the car in gear. “But I’ve always wanted to.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Mel asked. There wasn’t a man Julia couldn’t get. She was like Ginger, the movie star from Gilligan’s Island. After high school, she’d traded her model thin figure for the lush curves that made men stutter. Add in the flowing red hair and the haughty go-to-hell look in her eye, and no man she focused on had a chance.

  “They’re all married,” Julia said as she drove through the intersection. “At least that’s what I thought, but mouthwatering as they are, I’ll stick with businessmen, the single ones on their way to becoming multi-millionaires.”

  “Those w
ould be the only ones who could afford you,” Mel said as they zipped into a tiny parking spot at the Salish Lodge, the most exclusive restaurant near Cedar Valley.

  Julia laughed. “Damn right. You only get one trip through this world. You might as well go first class. Talking about first class, tell me about this date you’re taking to the reunion. He might be able to improve your mood.” She touched up her lipstick before tossing it in her night-on-the-town purse. Julia was the only person who could make ownership of a different purse for each occasion seem perfectly normal.

  “Sebastian? He owes me a favor.” Mel stepped out of the car. “He’ll spend most of the time preening, but with his looks, he can pull it off. I need him to win the bet. Not for sex.”

  “You might need more than you think. I hope you win,” Julia said, clicking her remote until the car horn beeped. “If you lose…” Her voice trailed off as she glided into the restaurant.

  ****

  Jordan loaded the hose into the back compartment, folding it carefully, despite his aching arms. The surround and drown kept the fire from spreading, but it’d been a bitch to put out. A typical fire of this size took an hour or two. They were past four, and since they were first in, they were last out. The downside of getting “the big one”. After they finished the cleanup, they’d hang the wet hose in the tower and drop their bunker gear off at headquarters for cleaning. Finally, they’d switch over to their backup gear and see if they had enough time to catch some sleep.

  The deserted farmhouse shouldn’t have contained explosives and material that refused to be extinguished. They’d seen no signs it had been converted to a meth lab, so he figured the arsonist planted explosives and used a timing device to start an accelerant. Now the overhaul was done, the hot spots were gone, and the investigators could sift through the debris.

  “Jordan, honey, you want some coffee?” Kathy Jo walked over, holding a Styrofoam cup and a plate of cookies. Even though it was two a.m., her face was made up like Tammy Faye Baker. Huge curls stuck up about six inches from the top of her head. She volunteered as a Spark, a group of people who brought refreshments for the firefighters during long calls. She was also on a manhunt, with him dead center in the crosshairs.

  “Thanks.” He took the coffee and a chocolate chip cookie. He wanted to shake off the proprietary hand she placed on his arm, but he couldn’t be that rude. After two years of turning down her advances, he figured she would have given up, but Kathy Jo wasn’t backing off. He took a sip of coffee and knew he should keep his trap shut, but exhaustion not only fatigued his body, it stripped away his patience.

  Jordan cupped his hands around his mouth, which was a damn good excuse to get a few feet away from her, and shouted, “Hey Captain, Kathy Jo is handing out homemade cookies.”

  Middleton went for cookies like most guys went for sex. The man was addicted. He was also single and reached Jordan’s side in five seconds. He waited until Middleton had three cookies in his mouth and two more in his hand.

  “Did you tell her?” Jordan asked with a grin.

  Middleton’s eyes went wide with suspicion, and he chewed furiously.

  “To express our appreciation for your awesome cookies,” Jordan said, “Our Captain has offered to take you to dinner and a movie at the IMAX Theater in Bellevue on Saturday. All of us are chipping in to cover the cost, so if you’re free, he’ll pick you up at six. We’d appreciate the opportunity to repay your generosity.”

  Middleton inhaled and started coughing. Cookie crumbs flew everywhere. Jordan whacked him on the back. “Would you get him something to drink?”

  Looking shell-shocked, Kathy Jo nodded. As she walked back to the table the Sparks set up, Jordan grinned and gave Middleton another pat on the back.

  “Have a good time on your date.” Then because Middleton’s face turned red, Jordan added, “Don’t worry about popcorn. She’ll bring enough cookies to feed the entire audience.”

  ****

  “How’s Eric?” Mel asked as she walked into Last Chance Saturday morning.

  “He’s got a cast from wrist to shoulder, but it’s not stopping him,” Sara said as she sorted a stack of folders next to the register. “After breakfast I caught him sneaking a skateboard out the back door. Disaster sticks to that boy like Velcro.” Sara rolled her eyes, which made her look more like Carley than a mother of two. “How’d it go?”

  “Busy. At least a dozen locals stopped by to see if it was really me. The good news is no one wanted to admit the real reason they came, so they all bought something.”

  “I should put a sign out front when you’re here.” Before Mel could protest, Sara laughed. “If it’ll increase sales I can’t let the opportunity pass. Are you coming to dinner tonight?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Bring your camera. Dad will be there.”

  “I saw him.” Mel took a slow, deep breath and changed the subject. “Do you remember Jen Marsh?”

  Sara shook her head.

  “We went to school together. Total bitch, conceited rich girl, all that. Anyway, she came by yesterday and pissed me off. So we made a bet.”

  Sara stopped flipping pages. “What kind of bet?”

  As Mel explained, the worry line in the middle of Sara’s forehead grew. By the time she finished, it was a full-blown trench.

  “Melanie, how could you do that?” Sara looked upset. “What if you lose?”

  “I won’t.”

  Sara slammed the folders on the counter.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No!” Tears filled Sara’s eyes. “I need you. After all you said, I thought I could count on you. Now you’re going to leave.”

  “I’m not leaving.” She walked around the counter to put her arm around Sara. “I won’t lose. Trust me.”

  “Yesterday, the awful weights piled on my shoulders finally started falling off. I saw how I could make it without Carl, with your help, but I can’t do this.”

  “You will. We will.”

  “You can’t help if you’re not here.” Sara stepped away. “Why did I ever think I could do it all? No one can. After the baby—” She broke off and hurried around the counter to straighten a display of freeze-dried food.

  “What baby?”

  Sara didn’t answer, so Mel went to her. “Are you pregnant?”

  Sara stopped moving and looked bereft. “Not anymore. I had a miscarriage three weeks ago.”

  Mel wrapped her arms around Sara and tried not to cry. “I’m so sorry. Is that why Carl left?”

  “When we found out I was pregnant, he told me to get an abortion.” Now Sara’s eyes glittered with defiance. “The moron. I refused, so he left. Two days later, I lost the baby. And now…”

  “Now I’m here. I’ll help. I promise.”

  “But if you lose, you’ll leave. Once you make a bet, you honor it. No matter what.”

  “I won’t lose.” Sara didn’t look convinced, so Mel added, “Don’t worry, okay?”

  Sara let out an angry huff. “That’s like saying don’t breathe.”

  “It’ll be okay. I promise. Now what can I do to help?”

  Sara took a deep breath. “You can count inventory or unpack and tag the socks. I’ll catch up on the paperwork.”

  Counting didn’t sound like fun. “I’ll start with the boxes.”

  Mel was drying her hands in the restroom when she heard male voices. She tried out a few smiles in the mirror, hoping to find a sexy one. No luck. Who needed sex, anyway? Anna and Julia got her thinking about things she’d be better off without. Besides, the Valley was a gossip goldmine. She wanted to improve her reputation, not destroy it. And since she’d been pressed tight to Jordan’s well-muscled chest, she couldn’t even fantasize about other men, which really sucked.

  She opened the door, and stopped.

  Jordan Stone, dressed in faded jeans, hiking boots, and a blue T-shirt that molded his upper body, stood at the counter chatting with Sara. Adrenaline surged through Mel. That wou
ld account for the tightening low in her belly and the sudden heat spreading through her. This wasn’t attraction. It couldn’t be. Just to prove it, she waited until she could breathe normally and walked behind the counter.

  “This is our first,” said a younger man who stood next to Jordan.

  How had she missed seeing the two other men, both in fire department uniforms?

  “You and Teresa will do fine,” Sara said. “Too bad you’re moving.”

  “She wants to be near family,” the man replied.

  Sara smiled, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world. “It’s hard to trust anyone other than family with a new baby. I’ll get your drinks.”

  “How’s the burn?”

  Jordan’s voice made Mel think of a sexy cowboy sitting on top of a big, black horse, all masculine and confident. The short sleeves of his T-shirt displayed the firm, muscled arms that’d wrapped around her at the police station.

  She lost herself in his familiar brown eyes and caught a flicker of something that made her think he’d seen more of life than he wanted to. It was an odd juxtaposition, a merging of the boy she remembered with the man standing before her, a combination of sweet teenage longing mixed with full-blown adult lust. His eyebrows lifted in the center, slanting down slightly at the ends like an upside down V. She couldn’t remember the question.

  “The burn?”

  “Mm, it’s okay.” She struggled not to fidget.

  Multiple bell tones came over the radio clipped to the older firefighter’s belt. A woman’s voice followed. “Engine 2, Engine 2, reports of a brush fire, Interstate 90, one-half mile south of exit 31.”

  The firefighter unclipped a radio and said, “Engine 2, responding.”

  His partner tossed some bills on the counter, and they left.

  Jordan stayed.

  Sara gave her a sidelong glance. “Jordan,” Sara said, “would you mind checking Mel’s burn? She won’t let me near it.”

  He hesitated, then made a “come here” motion with his finger.

  Mel stood frozen in place until Sara kicked her. She gave Sara an evil look, but went around the counter to Jordan. Her heart began racing.

 

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