Line of Fire (Southern Heat Book 5)

by Jamie Garrett

  If there was something good to come out of this shit of a week, it was that she didn’t need to worry about being treated differently. Her colleagues at the house had known something was up with her this week, to the point of taking extra care with her in private. When they’d been at a call-out, though, they’d treated her completely professionally and let her do her job. She appreciated their support—both public and private—more than she could tell them.

  Did it mean that maybe there was a chance for her and Shane, that nothing would change with the rest of the guys as a result? For years, she’d been so concerned with not giving anyone a moment to doubt her, to call her into question as a female working in a hugely male-dominated industry. Somehow, she’d forgotten that, at Engine 81 at least, that just meant having a greater number of older brothers than you could count looking out for you. Well, one that wasn’t so brotherly. Shane dropped down on the couch next to her, handing her another donut.

  “You liked the last one so much, I went again this morning on the way in.”

  She looked over at him and nearly melted. On his face was a genuine smile that she’d seen before. Now, it was intermingled with something else. Not concern or pity, as she’d feared, but something. She wouldn’t go so far as to call it love; who knew if they’d ever make it to that, but it was something. It made her feel . . . wanted. She grinned back. That felt good. Nearly as good as the taste of the tart-sweet glaze as she bit into the soft, perfectly risen dough. “Oh, my God, that is amazing.”

  “Lemon glaze,” Shane said. “Thought you’d like it.”

  “Go now. Get a dozen.”

  Shane chuckled, putting his feet up on the coffee table, ignoring Mason’s mock glare, and took a sip of his own coffee. “Would have brought you another drink, too, but looks like someone already took care of that.”

  She smiled. “Connor. Everyone’s been really great this week.”

  Shane frowned, though his eyes were still twinkling. “Anyone I need to be jealous about?”

  Charlie paused, taking a deliberately slow sip of her coffee, followed by another large bite of the donut. “Oh, I don’t know, are there more of these where this one came from?”

  Shane grinned. “Darlin’, I’ll bring you one every day if it puts that look on your face.”

  Charlie stared out the window, her hand at her mouth as she nibbled on a nail. They were on their way back from the second call of the shift, something easy for a change, a guy who had fallen off a ladder trying to clean his gutters. Good for him, he’d only been four steps up when he fell and had escaped with little more than a sprained ankle. That hadn’t changed the niggle that was still bugging her. It had rattled around in the back of her brain ever since she’d woken in the middle of the night with no idea why. At first she thought it had been about the legal case, but the more she thought about it, the more she wasn’t convinced. No, it was something to do with Herman Langley; the man who had disappeared after hijacking Mrs. Simmons’ house for what had possibly been the weirdest call of the year. He wouldn’t be the first patient to be looking for a little extra attention. Sometimes they were lonely, sometimes just bored, but still. Something was just off about the whole thing. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Shane swung the wheel to round the corner, then turned to catch her gaze. “Okay. Out with it.”

  She turned, forcing her hand away from her mouth. “What?”

  “You’ve been quiet for a whole ten minutes. Something’s wrong. What is it?” He looked over at her, this time his gaze reflecting his concern. “Is it the deposition yesterday?” His look sharpened. “Something happen you’re not telling me about?”

  Why had Shane caring about her ever bothered her? It was as if she’d been afraid of something that wouldn’t have ever happened. The guys at the house treated her like their own; she should have realized what that meant. And now that she’d gone a whole week without hearing any more on the missing drugs and HQ actually standing by her on the Monahan case, she’d finally managed to take a breath. She looked out the front window, watching Monroe pass by. Maybe something was actually possible here.

  “Silence isn’t going to get you out of it, you know. I know where you keep your chocolate.”

  Charlie smiled. She may as well tell him, or he’d keep at it, and they had at least sixteen more hours on shift together. Besides, talking it over with someone else might shake whatever it was lose from her brain. “Okay, but it’s nothing, really. Just something about Herman Langley.”

  Shane kept his gaze straight, but his hands tightened just a little around the wheel. “What about him? Has Scott been able to track anything else down?”

  She shook her head. Scott had promised to keep digging into the mystery man after their second call-out to the apartment, but he hadn’t found anything new—that she knew of, anyway. Not that she was expecting it. He’d been busy with a case that actually mattered, insisting the homicide where the boy had been left behind with the note should come to him after he’d found out it involved the firehouse. She’d been grateful to him. He might have been good friends with Seth, but he didn’t owe her squat. Even so, she’d appreciated having someone truly on her side when all that shit had broken.

  “It’s something about Langley himself,” she said. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, remembering the call. Her mind lingered on when she’d been treating him. Was that it? “There were other cuts on his hand. Old ones, but deep. It seemed odd.”

  Shane shrugged, pulling into the engine bay. “Maybe the old guy’s just clumsy.”

  Charlie opened the door, swinging her legs out and hopping down onto the concrete floor. “Maybe. But there’s something about them. I just can’t remember what.”

  “You could ask Jesse about it,” Shane suggested, sticking his head around from the back of the rig. “I bet he still has some of his FBI connections, even if he’s on leave. Maybe there’s some kind of database or something he can check, see if Langley pops up somewhere Scott doesn’t have access to.”

  Charlie nodded her assent. “It’s probably nothing.” Shane climbed in the back of the ambulance, grabbing the log books. Once he was out of view, she let out a breath and leaned against the rig, shoving her hands in her pockets. Herman Langley’s face ran through her mind. There likely wasn’t anything to actually remember. He hadn’t looked familiar at the call. She shook her head, pushing up and moving to go help Shane. She’d just been obsessing over it, trying to force a memory that was likely nothing more than the memory of another patient. She’d attended hundreds of calls with knife wounds over the years. That was all this would be, too. Still, she’d call Jesse when she was next off shift, anyway. Just in case.

  14

  Shane

  Shane sat in the back of Engine 81 as it drove, lights and sirens, to the fire. The perspective from up here was different than behind the wheel of the ambulance, but welcome. When Charlie had looked at him like she was going to murder him when all he’d done was steal one of her fries, Shane figured it might pay to give her a bit of space before next shift. He’d practically been living with her since the police had found that note, but things had quieted down. In fact, there hadn’t been a peep from anyone in relation to Charlie since. Maybe whoever had left that note had found out that the detective on the case was a personal friend of the guys at the firehouse, and had backed off, figuring harassing her was more trouble than it was worth. He could only hope, but either way, Charlie had promised to get in touch with Jesse today. Shane hoped Jesse would be able to reassure her about whatever was bugging her.

  The truck arrived at the scene, and Shane grabbed his helmet and climbed out of the truck. This wouldn’t be the first asshole they’d dealt with, and it wouldn’t be the last, either. Either way, Charlie had promised him she’d keep her guard up and stay around other people, and so on their first day off, he’d taken an extra shift with the crew that manned the truck. It would help clear his head, and being around a different squad m
eant he could get his head in the game without anything else to worry about.

  The scene was chaotic: an apartment building with dozens of residents standing around on the street outside, most in their pajamas, as well as probably about double that many again of nosy assholes that couldn’t mind their own business. It was the middle of the night, for fuck’s sake. Didn’t these people have anything better to do, like sleep? Unless it was his building that was actually on fire, a little apartment blaze wouldn’t be enough to get Shane out of bed at oh-dark-thirty.

  His gaze roamed about the crowd, hoping to spot someone who looked familiar, but there was no one. Shane forced his attention back to the fire. This was out of the pattern of the two warehouse arson fires, with at least fifty residents having been at risk. And besides, at those scenes, the places had been deserted. There’d been no one to spot, so even if he did notice a bystander acting weird here, he had no one to compare them to. “Parker, you and Brooks are on search,” the lieutenant called out, and Shane grabbed the halligan set, making his way to the building. He’d taken this shift to get his mind back in the game and off all the shit that had been plaguing his crew the last few weeks. That wasn’t going to happen if he kept thinking about it.

  “Arial!” the lieutenant called out, sending others to man the ladders and start beating back the fire from outside the building. Shane nodded at Brooks as they entered the building, then pointed—he’d go left and up the stairs, starting the search of the apartments while Brooks cleared the lobby.

  He shouldered open the door of the first apartment. “Fire department, call out!” Nothing. Shane swept the rooms, just in case—Mason’s rules. Even though this wasn’t his shift, Shane still followed it. When he found nothing, he closed the door and made his way to the next. Clear. Then again. He kept going, breathing a sigh of relief when the first floor swept clear. He hoped that the residents standing around on the street had been all of them. It would be a blessing to attend an apartment fire where everyone had managed to get out. His radio crackled to life. “Lobby’s clear,” Brooks said. “I’m coming up to you.”

  “Skip straight to second,” Shane said in reply. He headed for the stairs, testing them before going forward. The fire was still burning but seemed to be concentrating upward. The guys outside would get it under control soon enough. Making it up to the second floor, he began the process all over again. Apartment one, clear. Two, clear. Shane smiled beneath his oxygen mask. Maybe the universe really was smiling on them that day.

  “Coming up on second,” Brooks said through the radio. “Where are you, Parker?”

  “Apartment two oh four,” Shane said, pushing open the door. He’d taken three steps into the apartment when he heard it. The ominous creaking sound that all firefighters knew meant fucking move. Shane twisted, attempting to turn, but the hall was narrow. “Fuck,” he muttered, pushing forward. He managed one step, two, before an impact landed heavily on his shoulder, making his arm numb and taking him out. Shit. He tried to move his other arm to activate his PASS alarm, but a shooting pain running across his back stopped him.

  “Parker, you okay?” Brooks’ voice came over the radio. Shane wriggled, trying to move enough to at least reach that, but it was no use. He was pinned beneath a hunk of burning roof beam, the heat of it reaching through his turnout gear. How long could he lie there before it was compromised? Over his grunts and the crackle of the fire, he finally heard it—the loud, sharp wailing of his alarm, letting the rest of the crew know he hadn’t moved for thirty seconds. “Damn it!” Brooks said through the radio. “Hang on, Man, I’m on the way.”

  Seconds later, he arrived at Shane’s side, taking in the scene. He swore loudly again before barking for help into the radio. “Swing the ladder! Parker’s going to need evac through the window.”

  Shane closed his eyes for what seemed like only a second, throwing them open again when a hand shook his free shoulder, the pain jerking him back to reality. Rodriguez, the EMT from second shift, was lying on the floor next to him, shining a fucking annoying light in his eyes. “Keep your eyes open, Shane,” he said. “Can you do that for me?”

  “If you keep the fucking light out of them,” he said back, groaning when the weight lying across his shoulder shifted. Damn, when had the rest of the boys gotten here? He tried to turn his head and the world swam.

  “Keep still for me, Shane,” Rodriguez said. “We’ll have you out in no time.” The beam shifted again, and an excruciating pain radiated down his back. Maybe it was time Shane listened to him.

  Shane pulled the oxygen mask off his face. “Seriously. Lights and sirens aren’t necessary. I’m fine.”

  Rodriguez grinned at him and snapped it back into place. “You’re fine when the docs clear you. Until then, we’re taking no chances with one of our own.” He pushed Shane lightly on his uninjured shoulder to get him to lie the hell down. Damn, Charlie was going to be pissed at him for getting injured. Not to mention Mason and Chief Stone.

  It had taken another ten minutes to get Shane free and then hustled down a ladder on the backboard and loaded into the rig. It felt supremely weird being on the other side, but Shane lay back. He knew what a pain in the ass combative patients could be, and so he’d give Rodriguez and his partner a break. Besides, he was starting to feel a little woozy.

  “What the hell?”

  “That’ll be the pain med,” Rodriguez said. “Good shit, isn’t it?”

  The ambulance started to move, and Shane was just drifting out when he heard another call over the radio. “Ambulance 32, advise when you’re back on call. Company 81 is being redirected direct to another apartment fire.”

  “Copy that.” The voice of Rodriguez’s partner, Ryan Taylor, came over the radio. “What’s the address?”

  “801 Second, evacuation in progress.”

  The words filtered slowly through Shane’s brain, and when he finally processed them, he jerked upright, this time nearly pulling out his IV and adding the pain from that to his throbbing shoulder.

  “Shane! Lie down or I’m going to have to sedate you, Asshole.”

  Shane grabbed at the IV, attempting—badly—to remove it one-handed. “You don’t understand,” he said. “Eight oh one on Second. That’s my place.”

  15

  Charlie

  Charlie woke, half in a daze. What the hell was that beeping sound? She’d finally had the night she’d first tried to have nearly a week before—just her, Netflix, and a tub of ice cream. More than one, actually, followed by an Irish-cream chaser. She still had a full twenty-four hours before she had to be back on shift, and so what the hell. It had been the first night she’d had entirely on her own since all this crap had started up. Shane’s company had been nice—more than nice—but she’d been badly in need of some alone time, just to catch her breath and let her mind relax and reset. Not that she could complain much. Waking up to Shane’s hard body pressed against hers in the morning was a special kind of wonderful. Charlie’s lips curved upward, and her eyes fluttered closed at the memory. Maybe she could get back to sleep and have a very sweet dream or two before morning.

  Beep beep!

  Damn it. More awake this time, she recognized the sound of her phone. Who the hell was texting her at 2 a.m.? She reached over and swiped the screen, wincing at the brightness. Her eyes widened as she took in the message.

  Shane injured in fire, still on scene. Address is 51 Meadow.

  Suddenly wide awake, Charlie threw off her blanket and grabbed around in the dark for her jeans, cursing when she stubbed her toe against the nightstand. The number on her phone was unknown, but that wasn’t surprising. She didn’t know the guys from B shift that well. They must have gotten her number from someone they knew from her shift, or maybe even someone from another house she’d worked at who had transferred in. She didn’t care. It would have been nice to be able to call back and see how Shane was, but getting there was more important. It took her two more minutes to get dressed and unearth her car ke
ys, and then she was on the road.

  Charlie slowed as her maps app told her she was approaching the destination. The route had taken her down a few side roads and into the more rural part of town. They’d attended fires down here in the past, barns or someone’s grazing land sparking, but the road ahead was dark.

  She pulled over to the side of the road, leaning forward and peering out over the dash. According to the app, she only had a few hundred yards to go before she reached the address, so why wasn’t she seeing any lights from the trucks yet? Pocketing her phone and grabbing a flashlight, she climbed out of the car.

  She swept the large flashlight across the field in front of her. It was a heavy fucker, long metal handle and all, but it lit up the scene in front of her like a searchlight. Nothing was there except a few cows, blinking slowly at her in the sudden illumination. A few more steps revealed the road was more mud track than actual road, a local track leading to farms nearby and not much else. Wooded area to the right and to the left, a small hill blocked her view of much else. Maybe whoever it was had given the nearest marked address he could find and they were over the rise.

  Charlie started up the hill. Her feet slipped a little at the start, and she put one hand down to brace herself. Climbing a small mountain in the dark hadn’t exactly been in her plans when she’d slipped on tennis shoes in the middle of the night, but after a text like that, she wasn’t leaving until she was sure the scene was clear. The top of the hill should give her enough height that she could see far enough to figure out whether or not the squad was out here. If she couldn’t spot anyone from up there, then she’d get on her phone and find out what the hell was going on. If this was someone in B shift’s idea of a joke, then she’d kill them. If Shane didn’t get to them first.