Fire Fight

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Fire Fight Page 4

by Jacqueline Guest


  Rory had stopped by yesterday to see how the bike was running. There’d been no mention of a date, and I tried not to let it get under my skin. After the night of the storm, I was hoping for round two. I know Gran would have told me not to be too agreeable, meaning eager, and to always keep ’em wanting more, meaning that I should say no. Although she was old, Gran knew a lot about men, or more likely, she remembered a lot about men. I missed her and her wisdom. A lot.

  “A girls’ night out sounds great. Let me get cleaned up first. My perfume of hot grease and cold ketchup is gross. Want to grab a bite here before we go?”

  I’d finished counting the cash drawer and took it into the walk-in freezer as I spoke. Anne stashed the tills from the bar and restaurant inside an empty hamburger-patty box in lieu of a proper safe. The restaurant had really been hopping, and there was a lot of cash, which, I was pleased to say, balanced to the penny.

  Anne tilted her head. “Hmm. You’ve eaten here every night since you started. You must have tried everything on the menu by now. What if I take you out to supper?”

  “And I’m happy to report it’s all delicious.” I thought about her offer. “But something different would be nice.”

  “There’s a Mexican bar with great food on Banff Avenue,” Anne said brightly, before hesitating. “Did you get your replacement ID straightened out? I know they’d card you.”

  I felt the ice thinning under my feet and knew I had to tread carefully. “It’s coming in the mail. I’m having it sent to general delivery at the post office.”

  “Hmm. We’d best keep it PG rated then.” Anne picked up her stack of papers. “Meet you in front of the staff residence in half an hour.”

  The evening turned out to be a lot of fun. We went to a Greek family restaurant owned by friends of Anne’s. After an exotic meal that involved grape leaves and goat cheese, it was on to the Banff Centre, which was internationally known in the art world. I loved the photography exhibit, especially the black-and-white images of stark mountains and rocky crags.

  Anne was easy to talk to and knew when to be quiet, which is just as important as knowing when to say something. We chatted about lots of things, and she never pressed when I held back. It would have been nice to tell her everything because lying to her was hard. I told myself it was for her own good. She wouldn’t like Kai Hunter. Robin Pearce was much nicer, much more . . . normal. At least that’s the way I made her sound.

  We were on our way back to the hostel when Anne had another idea.

  “If you’re not doing anything on Sunday the sixteenth, do you want to come with Mike and me to a concert? It’s called Mountain Rock, and it’s a mix of folk and what you’d call ‘real’ music. You know, noisy and with lyrics no one can understand.” She laughed as she parked the car. “We’ll take a picnic lunch and relax. I know Mike wants to talk to you more about the rapattack work. You really impressed him, and believe me, he doesn’t impress easily.”

  I didn’t want to get too buddy-buddy; even great liars slip up. The thing was, it sounded interesting, and I’d had a good time that night. Before I knew it, I heard myself agreeing to go. “Sure, should be great.” I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake.

  The next week was so busy, we had to take cash out of the till halfway through some shifts to keep the amount in the tray to a minimum. Anne had shown me how to figure each staff member’s expected total, and although it took me a long time, I was able to get everyone’s cash drawers to balance. I was walking across the parking lot after a particularly busy Friday when Rory drove up on his bike. I hadn’t heard from him all week and had a good mind to tell him to get lost.

  “You done with work?” he asked.

  Rory looked so good sitting there on his powerful bike with the golden afternoon sunshine making a halo around him. He was the perfect image of a really sexy boy next door. My will of iron turned to limp spaghetti and my righteous anger vaporized.

  “Yup. Done. We were slammed. It was the most money we’ve ever taken in. It took me forever to cash everyone out.”

  “Then you should kick back. There’s a party at Jimbo’s tonight. It’s gonna be wild.”

  I thought of the loud music, the dope, and the booze, and something unexpected happened. Instead of being excited, I felt kind of irritated. I’d rather spend the evening alone with Rory, relaxing. I doubted he’d ever turn down a party, though. I’d been busting my butt, and maybe a crazy night out would be good for me. “Sure. Pick me up at seven.”

  I’d bought a cute top and was waiting for an excuse to wear it. It was a soft peach color, and the material was very sheer, with a pale-blue lace cami underneath. I knew I looked hot in it and was sure Rory would notice.

  “I have something to do first. I’ll meet you there, baby girl.”

  At first I wasn’t sure I’d heard right. Finally, his words registered. He wanted me to go to some strange guy’s house alone, and believe me, Jimbo was about as strange as they came. It was way across town and I’d have to take my bike to get there. I had a rule about never drinking if I was on my motorcycle. My evening would definitely not be crazy. I was annoyed, but before I could persuade him to pick me up instead, he roared away. I was left standing in the parking lot. Not happy.

  I was about to stomp into the staff quarters when Anne came around the corner of the building. “Robin! Just the girl I’m after.”

  This was unusual. Had I screwed up? Had I forgotten something when I was cashing out?

  “Relax. Your probation is definitely over, and you’ve done so well, I think you could open in the mornings.” She held out a shiny new key.

  Taking the key, I was kind of shocked and very pleased. I had been working hard, and this told me Anne had noticed. Very cool. “Opening won’t be a problem. I’ll be there tomorrow, bright and early.”

  She left, and like morning mist in the warm sun, my irritation at Rory evaporated and I felt great. The idea of celebrating instantly appealed to me.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Bad Party

  When I got to Jimbo’s, the party was already out of control. I’d taken extra care with my makeup and recombed my hair when I took off my helmet. Bright light and loud music blasted from the house. I was sure the cops would be called before the night was over.

  When I walked in, I saw the girls from the party in the woods, Twila and her band of Barbies. I waved and she bobbed her head at me, then continued talking. I’m sure the ladies were discussing how to solve world hunger or global warming. As if! More likely they were talking about what color to paint their toenails next.

  Feeling awkward and out of place, I stood there alone. Really uncool. If Rory didn’t show soon, I’d leave.

  In a corner, I spotted Kyle and Jimbo doing tequila shots as Rat poured. There were several guys cheering them on, and I recognized one of the Root Cellar staff. Rat motioned for me to join them, which was not something I wanted to do. Those guys were creepazoids. Still, they might know something about Rory. I pushed my way through the crowd.

  “Do you know when Rory’s showing up?” I asked Kyle between rounds.

  “He’s tied up,” Jimbo said with a snort.

  “I bet he is!” Rat agreed, and all three laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d heard in a long time.

  I wondered what they meant.

  Kyle threw back another shooter. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and then fingered the sheer material of my blouse. “I’m guessing you want to party.” He nudged Jimbo. “Don’t you think the Injun princess should be our Miss Friendly tonight?”

  Jimbo leered evilly. “She could be real friendly—with all three of us. Whaddya say, princess? Wanna go upstairs an’ discuss it?”

  I had started to turn away from the slimeballs when Kyle’s fist snaked out and grabbed my wrist. “Don’t be in such a hurry, sweet thing. Rory’s busy with his latest hot-and-sweaty, which means it’s up to us to keep you entertained.”

  He started to pull me toward the stairs. Glancing
around, I saw the other onlookers had conveniently disappeared. “Get lost, loser!” I yelled, as I wrenched my arm from Kyle’s grip and backed up. Too late, I realized that Rat and Jimbo had closed in behind me.

  “I can’t leave you three bums alone for a minute without you hitting on my girl.”

  I heard Rory’s voice and my stomach unclenched. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been.

  Shoving past Rat and Jimbo, I leaned against Rory, never so glad to see anyone in my life. His arm went around me protectively. “Your friends are scum,” I said flatly.

  “I know, but they’re my scum,” Rory laughed. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s have a drink.” He led me outside to a secluded spot by the back fence.

  I sat on an old bench, my scowling face radiating displeasure. The close encounter with those morons had really freaked me out.

  My rule was never to drink and drive. This time, though, when Rory offered me his bottle of whiskey, I was tempted. Thankfully, common sense kicked in. “Nah. If I smack my bike up one more time, my mechanic will kill me.”

  “One look at you and he’d get over it,” Rory said, taking in my sexy top.

  “Where were you tonight?” I hoped the whine in my head didn’t carry over to my voice. “Not only were those loser pigs all over me, they said you were with some girl. Were you?” Maybe I had no right to be so possessive, but when I thought of how he’d asked me to this awful party, I decided that he did owe me an explanation.

  “I told you I had something to do.” I could hear the annoyance in his tone. In a blink, he changed gears. “Come on, baby girl, lighten up. I came here because of you.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and we both knew I’d give in. “Okay,” I sighed. “Next time, can we go together so I don’t have to worry about the Goon Squad?”

  “Sure, anything you want,” he agreed, nuzzling my neck.

  “Were you with a girl?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

  “You’re so hot tonight, why would I waste my time with second-raters?” He continued to work magic on my neck.

  This wasn’t an answer, but I didn’t press him. We made out until, breathless, I sat back. “Whew! Time out!” I rearranged my rumpled top. “Guess what happened at work today?”

  “You said it was killer busy.” Rory took another drink from the bottle.

  “It was. When I counted the till trays, I couldn’t believe we’d all balanced to the penny. To the penny!”

  “Lots of big bucks, huh?”

  “Loads. Credit is dead. Long live cash!” I laughed. “At least with the twenty-something crowd.”

  “You locked it up? I was never good with safe combinations. There was this job where I had to get money out of the safe and half the time I couldn’t get it open. My boss thought I was an idiot.”

  “Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about safes. We stash the cash in the walk-in freezer, and my biggest problem is remembering which cardboard box it’s in.” He reached for me again and I wiggled away. “Wait, you haven’t heard my big news! After you left, Anne found me and I thought I was in trouble. Fortunately, that wasn’t it at all. She told me I was doing such a great job, she wants me to open in the morning. She gave me a key and everything.” I fumbled in my jeans pocket and produced the new key. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  Rory sat up. “No kidding.” He paused, grinning widely. “Wait here.” He left and came back with a can of pop and a plastic cup, which he handed to me. “It’s only ginger ale, not champagne, but I thought we should toast your promotion.”

  He raised his whiskey bottle. “Here’s to you moving up in the world, baby girl. Congrats!”

  I touched my cup to the bottle. “Thanks.” I felt so good, I moved in closer and kissed him. He put the bottle down and returned my kiss with an even hotter one of his own. After a while, he leaned against the fence and lit up a cigarette.

  “I bet the bar at the hostel was rocking too.”

  “Yeah, seems everyone’s got loads of money to spend—everyone except me.” I giggled.

  “No wonder your boss gave you a promotion. You deserve it,” he said with approval.

  I refilled my glass from the ginger ale can as I babbled on. “You’re right! I need a raise. Maybe I’ll suggest it to Anne. And tips have been really great too.”

  We talked and Rory listened attentively to every word. He laughed at the crazy things that had happened at work and kept his arm around me. The perfect boyfriend. I must have been more tired from my long day at work or more rattled than I thought, because I was suddenly exhausted.

  I yawned, feeling slightly drunk, which was ridiculous. “There’s no alcohol in my pop, is there?”

  “No booze at all,” he assured me.

  “I’m beat, Rory. I should go home before I can’t ride.”

  “Relax. The night is young.” His voice was so soft, so soothing.

  I was feeling sleepy and decided I’d close my eyes for just a minute.

  The sound of cursing woke me. Groggily, I sat up. I was in a brown recliner chair in the middle of Jimbo’s living room, with the sun streaming through the window. Rory was asleep on the couch. The place was trashed. There were bottles everywhere, couples passed out on the floor, and music still blaring from someone’s smartphone.

  My head thumped with each beat of the music. I tried to stand and my stomach lurched. I hated hangovers.

  The fog cleared and I frowned. How could I be hungover? I hadn’t been drinking, had I?

  I must not have had enough sleep. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Ever since I was a kid, if I didn’t get eight hours a night, I was a total bear. A grizzly bear. “A grizzly bear with a thorn in its paw,” as Gran used to say. The nausea was new, though.

  I felt something stuck in my hair. A plastic crown, the kind from a dollar store, sat perched on my head, and there was a tinfoil scepter at my feet. I didn’t remember a thing about the coronation.

  Groaning, I stumbled over to Rory and shook him. “I’ve gotta go. I have to open the restaurant. Talk to you later.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Sure. See ya,” he growled, rolling over.

  I found my helmet and painfully made my way to my bike. The ride was torturous, as my head felt like it might fall off with every bump. Mercifully, I made it to the staff lodge without throwing up. I showered and carefully, oh so carefully, brushed my teeth without bending over the sink, as tilting in any direction made the volcano in my head erupt. Pulling on last night’s jeans and a clean uniform shirt, I gingerly walked to the main building. If I was lucky, I’d be in and setting up before any of the other staff came on shift.

  The police cruiser waiting in the parking lot made me stop in my tracks.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Inside Job

  What were the cops doing here?

  Anne came out of the main doors of the hostel, flanked by two RCMP officers. I froze. Were they here for me? Had I been busted?

  “Robin, can you come here, please?” Anne called.

  I obediently went over, feeling like I was marching to my own execution.

  “Hi. What’s going on?” I made myself sound bright and chipper, trying to hide the nervousness in my voice.

  “Someone used a key to break into the restaurant around midnight, and the cash receipts are gone.” She was very stressed. “Several of the staff have keys, and the police need to make sure none of those keys were stolen. Do you have yours?”

  I remembered proudly showing Rory my key last night. I fumbled in my pocket and thanked all the party gods out there when I felt the hard metal. I pulled it out. “Yes. It’s right here.”

  “That’s the last one accounted for.” Anne ran her fingers through her hair, obviously upset.

  “Where were you last night, Miss . . . ?” the taller officer asked, pen poised over his notebook.

  “The name’s Robin Pearce. I was at a party at Jimbo’s, I mean Jim Watson’s, until about an hour ago,” I stammered.

  Anne’s brow arched at this admission
.

  “Can anyone verify you were there?” he pressed.

  “Yes. My boyfriend, Rory Adams. I was with him all night, and everyone at the party saw me too. I was the one in the brown chair with the tiara and scepter.” I had no idea who these magical witnesses were and hoped that if the cops checked, someone would remember the passed-out girl in the middle of the living room.

  The officer wrote this down and then gave me the once-over again. “A green step-side pickup was reported leaving this parking lot late last night. Do you know who owns the truck?”

  My heart sped up. I was very familiar with that particular truck, which didn’t matter since I sure couldn’t say anything. “No, officer, I don’t.” This was the truth. If I told them I’d been hit by the same pickup, it would set off a chain reaction of questions as to why I’d never reported it, where was I from, and what happened to my ID. No, I honestly didn’t know who owned it, and throwing myself under the bus would do no good.

  The officers told Anne they’d be in touch and left.

  “This is terrible,” she moaned. “There was over fifteen hundred dollars in the freezer.”

  I thought she was going to cry. Anne had always been kind to me, super nice and fair when she didn’t have to be. I wished there was something I could do to help.

  She took a deep breath. “What I don’t understand is how someone got in. Only people I trust have keys. I’d better call Mike and bring him up to speed.” Shaking her head, Anne went back into the hostel.

  Only people she trusted. I thought about last night and was so grateful I still had my key. I went to open the restaurant.

  A few gallons of coffee and a greasy BLT kept me going until my shift was finally over. I drove to Ace Auto Repairs hoping to see how Rory had made out. I wondered if he’d had as rough a day as I’d had. Parties and early-morning shifts don’t mix. My tips had been good, and I thought I’d take him out for pizza and tell him about the robbery.

  A big guy with a lot of dark-blue tattoos on his muscled arms and a name tag that read “Frank” stood at the counter. He looked up as I walked over.

 

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