The Protector (32 page)

“It wasn’t Christmas weekend last time. I don’t want my men hurt.”

“Join the crowd.”

“You’ve got to at least have some suspicions.”

“Several.”

“Names? Someone I know?”

“None you need to know about, and not when you’re going on shift. I don’t need you distracted, Jack.”

“I’m trying to help here, Cole, and you’re not making it easy.”

“Live with it.”

“I don’t want Cassie rolling out with us today.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I don’t need her getting hurt on Christmas Eve,” Jack replied, ready to argue the point.

Cole just held up his hand. “She’ll ride with me today. I don’t particularly want her in the middle of this either. Did you read that nursing home report I gave you?”

“Yes. I wish you would tell me what you’re looking for.”

“The words murderer, coward, liar. He’s angry. And he’s leaving popcorn with a flourish. The nursing home was the fire where popcorn became a calling card. There were other signatures he could have copied: the gas can and red bandanna for a fuse, padlocks on the doors. Why not the fireworks signature that made such a splash in the press last year? He chose popcorn for a reason.”

“We’ve already looked at the people who died in the nursing home fire, their relatives.”

“It’s time to rethink it. Something is there.”

“Ash disappeared,” Jack said quietly.

Cole just nodded. “Has Cassie said anything about that fire?”

“No.”

“She’s a key to this, Jack. Just like you are.”

Jack scowled. “I don’t know why he’s focused on me, this shift. I’ve racked my brains for names. Does Ben have any ideas?” Tones sounded. Jack pushed himself to his feet.

“Be careful.”

“Always, boss.”

There was new caulk around the sink in the fire station women’s locker room. Cassie added her toothbrush to the blue spin rack, opened the cabinet, and found on the shelf below the towels an empty basket with her name on it nestled between others overflowing with shampoo bottles, makeup, cotton balls, and hair dryers. She tossed her toothpaste and hairbrush into her basket.

She had been on enough shifts she had finally decided to bring enough items to the station to effectively move in. She hadn’t wanted to appear presumptuous about her position for she knew it was day to day based on how long it took for them to find the arsonist.

Living at a fire station wasn’t all that different from her days living in a college dorm with the exception of a few unique realities—behind her, hung on a shower curtain rod, one of Margaret’s uniform shirts dripped dry. It had been soaked to remove blood stains acquired while working at the car accident earlier that morning.

Cassie walked back into the women’s dorm room. Bunks were made with precision; rugs covered the concrete floor. The room had been turned into more than just a place to sleep. There wasn’t much privacy to be found at a fire station, but an effort had been made here to make it a place to relax. Two comfortable chairs had been moved in along with a small television. Bookshelves had been built along one wall. A desk had been squeezed in.

Cassie picked up the folded yellow T-shirt that had been waiting for her on her bunk. Jack had snuck in a gift. The shirt was one from last year’s chili contest, boldly proclaiming Company 81’s standing as the hottest company. The Post-it note simply said Jack. He’d begun the effort to shift her loyalty to Company 81.

It was trivial, but she thought it was his way to add something light to counter what had felt like an awkward parting. She had seen him only briefly today, and only long enough to casually pass a few general remarks. He was out on another dispatch.

It was another day where she was stuck at the station while Gold Shift rolled out numerous times to car accidents caused by the snowy day. She hated being stuck in the station.

Lord, is there anything different I could do to help find this man?

She could feel the tension that grew with every shift and the awareness that a fire would come. With the two holidays what was normally a festive time of the year was markedly different this year, almost grim. She was worried about Jack. But there were many other families equally being affected by the threat this arsonist presented.

They needed a different game plan. They had to be able to find him.

Cassie went to find Cole to see what she could do for the rest of the shift. If it was paperwork… She sighed at the idea. She was coming to be proficient at it, and she knew Cole was relying on her and giving her more and more to do. It was a love-hate relationship. When Jack was here at the station, being here to work on paperwork was a nice reason to be in his world. When Jack was out on a dispatch, she found herself watching the clock and paying close attention to anything over the dispatch radio.

Maybe if Cole didn’t have anything really urgent for her to do, she could retreat to the kitchen and do some baking. The guys always relished having big, fresh cookies available. They had all the ingredients for Italian beef sandwiches that could be left in the Crock-Pot and kept hot for when the guys returned. It would be great to also get a soup started. The guys coming in and out of the station through the night would be cold and very likely hungry. A bite to eat and some desperately needed shut-eye would be high on their list of priorities.

“Got an extra one of those?”

Cassie looked up from the sandwiches she was cutting to see Ben had paused to lean around the kitchen door. “Sure, Lieutenant. Roast beef, mustard, and hot peppers? Heated?”

“Perfect. Cole around?”

“His office I think.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Cassie fixed Ben a thick sandwich and turned to take out of the oven the pan of brownies she had left there to keep warm. She wasn’t surprised to see Ben, even though it was only eight hours since he’d gone off duty. He’d been home, gotten some sleep, and come back to where he was needed most.

Ben rejoined her as she was peeling apples for a pie.

“Cole’s a miracle worker. He may have found Chad a job.”

Cassie slid Ben the sandwich. “Not the arson investigator slot he hoped for, but a community safety officer is a pretty good option.” She’d helped Cole find a way to get it created. “Think Chad will accept?”

“He should. It’s a good job, but will he?” Ben looked uncertain, and in the tightness around his mouth a touch of anger. “If he’s ready to accept he won’t be able to fight fires any more.”

Cassie studied the older man, knowing how hard he’d been trying to help his nephew, understanding also how hard it would be for Chad to adjust to the disability. “He’s depressed?”

The man’s discomfort increased. “It’s the holidays.”

“Anything I can do?”

Ben shook his head as he wadded up his napkin. “You adjusted; he’s got to do the same. It’s time he faced reality and got back to work. Would you do me a favor and make two pies? Black Shift loves your baking.”

“Glad to.”

The phone rang. Ben motioned for her to stay put and got up to answer it. Cassie wondered if she should point out Chad had been making those steps back—the application to Cole, stopping by to see Cole. Chad was trying, but she knew the job offer that would have him talking about fires instead of fighting them would hurt. It would really hurt.

“Jack!”

He struggled to turn in the ditch where the blue sedan had flipped. He squinted against the blowing snow, holding up his hand to block the wind as best he could. Daylight was dwindling, vehicle headlights were becoming brighter in the fading light. Traffic was rushing by and throwing up dirty snow and ice creating a background of constant noise.

“No joy on the tow,” Bruce shouted to be heard over the traffic. “Mark the car to be pulled out later.”

Jack waved his hand acknowledging that he heard the message. He struggled to get the top pocket of his winter gear open. He took out a bright red fluorescent seal and unfolded it.

Christmas Eve was proving to be the day that would not end. Jack marked the wreck by putting the red seal on the shattered back window so patrolling cops would know the vehicle had been checked out. This car was trashed, but the driver had walked away once they had been able to get the door pulled open. He was on his way to the area hospital to be checked out as a precaution.

Jack struggled to work his way back up the slick incline. Snow had begun to fall midafternoon and already his boot tops were disappearing as he walked. It wasn’t expected to let up for hours. Snow-packed treads, slick roads where salt melted the snow into mush, drivers hurrying to get home—as the temperature fell, the wind picked up, and as the snow got heavier the number of accidents grew exponentially. The spinouts and fender benders were coming faster than dispatch could take the calls.

He was cold and miserable, and the odds were good he was going to be cold and miserable for the next several hours. Jack slipped and jarred his wrist as he stopped the fall. He brushed snow off and tried to get it out of his glove.

Cole had arrived, his SUV parked behind Engine 81, red and blue lights flashing to warn traffic. His friend had come back to work shortly after 4
P.M.
to help out Frank with command and control. Prioritizing scenes was crucial when bad weather hit.

He wished traffic would slow down to a moderate speed so they didn’t have someone else end up in a ditch before they got done packing up from this one.

Cassie was standing near Cole’s vehicle, bundled into winter gear. Jack wasn’t thrilled with the idea of her being out in this to help Cole, but he was grateful to see her. The wind felt like blowing ice as he walked over to join her.

She wiped the snow off his face. “The shift is half over.”

He leaned against her hand. “I volunteered to work part of tomorrow.”

“I know. You’ll survive.”

He gave a weary smile. “Promise?”

“I brought you a hot roast beef sandwich and the biggest thermos of coffee the station had. They’re in the engine cab.”

“Bless you. I’ve forgotten what food was.”

“Cole is sending me home at 10
P.M.
He doesn’t want me rolling out if we have a fire tonight.”

Jack heard the unasked question of his role in that decision. “It’s Christmas Eve. You need a chance to enjoy it.”

“Protecting me, Jack?”

He hoped she would understand. “Trying to.”

She squeezed his arm. “Be careful tonight.”

“Guaranteed. Want to share my coffee?” The radio broadcast tones for another car accident. He scowled at it as he listened to the mile markers. It was about a mile north.

“Find a few seconds to eat the sandwich before dawn,” Cassie sympathized.

“Did you put on hot peppers?” Jack asked, walking backward as he headed toward the engine to join the guys.

“Absolutely.”

“Did you save me any of that cake you were baking?”

“I already set a big piece aside with your name on it.”

“Enjoy Christmas Eve, Cassie.”

“I will.”

Cassie drove home very slowly when she left the station; the last thing she wanted to do was add another accident to what the guys already had to deal with. The radio was playing Christmas music with no commercials.

Her windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the falling snow obscuring the window. The car heater still blew cold air. She was glad to get home.

Jack had added bags of sand to her trunk in case she hit ice and spun out. The added weight helped. Plows had come through the apartment complex parking lot, piling the snow into large mountains. The parking lot had been cleared but the sidewalks had not yet been shoveled.

Lord, this is a strange night. I didn’t expect to spend it alone.

She envied Jack the fact he was working tonight. He was making a lasting difference in people’s lives. People died in car accidents, people were injured every day of the year. But when it happened on a major holiday—the memory of that holiday was destroyed for years to come. For everyone Jack was able to help tonight, someone escaped a painful memory for the future.
Jesus, please keep him safe tonight as he tries to keep others safe.
She hoped the new year brought some clarity to her own future. She desperately needed to find it.

Thirty-five

J
ack considered thumping the snowblower with a wrench on the assumption that action would have as much success at fixing the thing as the last two hours of effort.

He was spending Christmas Day trying to fix it because he didn’t want to shovel snow by hand. If he had started shoveling the snow by hand when he got home from the fire station, he would have been done by now. Instead he had yet to begin.

He’d finally gotten off work at 1
P.M.
Jack wanted to get the snow cleared so he could go over to Cassie’s and talk her into building a snowman or having a friendly snowball fight. He shifted on the carpet remnant he was using to block the cold from the concrete.

The door between the house and garage opened and Rachel came out to join him. She was bundled up in a ski suit that would make a professional skier jealous. Jack was willing to bet Jennifer had been behind that gift. Rachel often ended up working at natural disasters where cold and wet were part of her long days.