America's Bravest (54 page)

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Isn’t it hard living your life like you
do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve only ever been a firefighter. All I
know is saving people from harm. Not destroying them. What’s it
like to want to hurt people?”

Parker was speechless. The gall of this man.
“Look, Chief, not that it’s any of your business but if you’d taken
a look at my job history, as well as my sordid background, I’ve
done plenty to champion the rights of others, to help people.” But
she’d be damned if she told him about the fundraising she’d done to
establish a battered women’s shelter back home, the reporting she’d
been a part of, which had caught a serial killer, the child
molester she’d exposed. She spent most of her life doing good
deeds
.
“I believe what I’m revealing about America’s
Bravest and Finest is helping a community who’s getting abused by
the system.” Delight turned to anger and she stood. “I accept your
offer. When can I start?”

“I have to tell the team first.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun.”

“I’ll make sure they’re courteous to
you.”

“I’m not worried about that. I hope they’ll
act naturally.”

“They might not at first. That’s why the plan
is to have you in the firehouse for an extended period of
time.”

“Well, email me.” Before she started away,
she took in his sober expression. “This was Noah Callahan’s idea,
right?”

He nodded.

“Tell me, Chief Erikson, what do you think of
it?”

His jaw tightened. “I think it’s a very bad
idea, Ms. Allen. A very bad idea.”

oOo

“No way!”

“Shit.”

“How can you ask us to do this?”

“Maybe I’ll transfer.”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

Though his crews were usually on good
behavior around their officers, before Cal dropped the bomb today,
he’d told Rescue 7 not to censor their reactions. He felt like
ripping somebody a new one himself.

“Now that you got that out of your systems,
I’ll finish what I was saying. This is a
fait accompli
.
She’s coming and we just have to make the best of it.”

“How can the chief do this to us?” Brody
asked. “You know she’ll find dirt.”

Cal frowned. “We don’t have anything to be
ashamed of.”

“Yeah, wait till she gets a look at O’Malley
in the morning.” God bless Tony Ramirez. Cal had hoped he’d play
his usual peacemaker role.

“And smell the bathroom after you been in it,
bombero
.” Brody’s retort caused a reluctant chuckle among
them.

Gabe waited until they were done insulting
each other then asked, “Are you for this, Cal?”

“I’ve got my objections but I’m trying to
make the best of it.” He waited. “Noah reminded me that we’re the
kind of people who do our job even during terrorist attacks.” Quiet
all around. “I’m not about to let some crusading reporter cow me if
Al Qaeda couldn’t.”

Felicia White hadn’t said anything. She
stared through an open window in the kitchen, which let in sun and
warm summer air.

“Lieutenant, what do you think?”

Raising light brown eyes—which were
troubled—to him, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m wondering if it
can get any worse with her attacks. She’s got a scathing account of
our inability to catch the arsonist in her blog today.”

Sydney shrugged. Since she and Max got
together, they’d both been walking around like fools. “Maybe it’ll
help to have her here. We do good work. We don’t slack off. She
seems to know everything about us, anyway.”

“Not if she twists things around to show us
in a bad light.” O’Malley was on a roll.

Cal played his trump. “I know you were
letting off hot air when I announced this, but if any one of you
does
want to transfer, I’ll make it happen.” He waited.
“You won’t be able to come back to Rescue 7, though. A lot of
people are chomping at the bit to get assigned to this squad.”

Tony said, “Hell, we’re tougher than that,
aren’t we?”

Sands nodded. “I am.”

“Oh yeah.” Brody again. “You’ve been a cream
puff since you fell in love.”

“And you’ve been Mr. Hard Nose? Face it guys,
we’re all in good places in our lives. We gonna let one skinny
broad scare us away?”

Gabe said, “Besides, I’ll start calling you
Snyder if you transfer.” Snyder was a guy who transferred to
another house when a woman came onto his group.

More acquiescence.

“I’m taking all this as agreement,” Cal
stated. “You’ll do it and behave. And be respectful.”

Mumbles of assent. Then Felicia asked, “When
does this little party start?”

“She said she’s available anytime. You’re off
for four days, so let’s plan on her coming in the next tour.”

They filed out of the kitchen one by one.
Gabe stayed behind. He seemed relaxed and patient, something Cal
was struggling for these days. “You did a good job with them,
Cal.”

“Did I? I’m biting bullets about this.”

“Take to heart what you told them. We are who
we are. She’s gonna see some good stuff around here. I’m proud of
our crew.”

Cal socked him in the shoulder. “You got the
love bug, too, so what do you know?”

“I know we’re good people, doing good things.
Screw her if she can’t see that.”

Gabe’s words cheered Cal up. He was right.
They had nothing to hide. And maybe Ms. Parker Allen had a lot to
learn about him and his squad.

Parker couldn’t believe her luck. She was
going to get a firsthand look at the inside of a firehouse, at how
one squad operated daily. They were pretty sure of themselves to
invite her in, which only confirmed what she knew to be true about
firefighters. They were an arrogant lot. She remembered the arson
inspector’s questioning of her mother when her dad had been accused
of the crime.

Are you sure there’s been no change in
his behavior in the last year…? He’s been losing money, you had to
know that.… Come on Mrs. Larson, you had to suspect
something.

The big, burly guy had bullied her mother so
much that finally her grandpa had set his lawyers on the
department. Which only made her father, Nigel Larson, look
guiltier. And he hadn’t been. He’d rotted for ten years in prison
and wasn’t the same man when he finally got out.

“Can I help you?”

Parker looked up at the clerk who’d
approached her in the expensive clothing shop. “What? Oh, yes. I’m
looking for casual clothes with pockets.” Lots of pockets, lots of
places to conceal the recording device she’d bought, which was
voice activated and would record for five hours. She wouldn’t be
able to take notes when she was at the firehouse, so she had a
backup plan.

After the woman helped her find some stylish
tops and pants in colors, she headed into the dressing room. And
froze. Parker hated trying on clothes in stores. She ordered
everything online so she could determine their fit and suitability
in the privacy of her own house. But this couldn’t be helped.

Consciously situating her back to the mirror,
she kicked off her shoes and removed her dress. She slid on the
first pair of khakis and a peach blouse she that didn’t tuck in.
The material was soft and sensitive on her skin. Enjoying it, she
pivoted around to face the mirror to see the garment from the
front.

Immediately, she caught sight of the red
scars on her midsection before she remembered not to look at them.
And she couldn’t tear her gaze away, didn’t do up the buttons right
away. There was no pattern to the ugly marks. They bisected,
crisscrossed and sprawled jaggedly over her torso. The best plastic
surgeon in the business couldn’t fix her any better than this.
Though they were no longer puckered and swollen, as they’d been for
a long time, the obscene marks mocked her.

Parker stared at her torso and shook her
head. What would her life been like if it hadn’t been for these?
Would she be more sensitive, more kind, more understanding of
others’ flaws? Would she be married to a man who loved her and have
a child?

No sense in wallowing in it, dear,
her mother had said,
would
say if she lived in Hidden Cove
and not Chicago.
What’s done is done. Just go on with your
life.

And Parker had taken the advice. She’d been
successful in every single endeavor she’d initiated, this job with
the newspaper included. Raising her eyes, she smiled at a face one
silly suitor had said could launch a thousand ships. While that was
true, he was an idiot.

“Why do you always hook up with idiots?”
Parker asked herself in the confines of the small quarters.

Since she’d get no answers to that question
or the others she put to herself, Parker shifted her gaze away from
her body, did up the shirt and concentrated on where in these new
clothes she could store the recording device. Her heart quickened
in anticipation of catching the men and women of the HCFD unawares
while she played their game to the finish. And it was a game. Cal
Erikson thought he was setting her up to be swept off her feet by
America’s Bravest. No way in hell. Instead, she was hoping to get
an exposé on Rescue 7 to counteract Max Delinsky’s flattering
profile coming out in the fall, one that would supersede anything
he showed about the fire department.

An image of Cal Erikson floated into her mind
as he’d sat across from her in the bar last fall. She’d asked why
he hadn’t used the information on her father against her and his
response had been
because it would be cruel.

Well, let him have integrity. Parker knew
very well how far integrity got people in life and she wasn’t going
to let it—or the chief—stop her.

oOo

On one of his days off, Cal walked into the
Little League park with great anticipation and a heavy heart. It
was always like this when he was about to see his son, Peter, and
his grandson Tommy. The best and worst of worlds. Not that he
blamed Peter for their estrangement. Cal was totally and fully at
fault. At least Sally, Peter’s wife, had convinced him to let Cal
him have a relationship with Tommy. Cal had heard Peter mutter
once, “I hope he’s better at that one.”

The stands were full of excited parents so
Cal stayed by the chain-link fence. He saw Peter—the spitting image
of him, as was Tommy. Irony at its greatest. Sticking his hands in
the pockets of his jeans, he watched Peter in his role as coach.
His son smiled all the time, like he had when he was young. He ran
out to the batter taking practice and gently adjusted the boy’s
grip on the bat. And he yelled to the pitcher every time the kid
threw a good ball. When Peter came back into the dugout, Tommy went
up to him and hugged him around the waist.

And Cal’s heart sank. He couldn’t stop the
memories.…

Peter at Tommy’s age: “We need a coach, Dad.
Can you do it?”

Cal had played ball in college. “No, son. My
schedule’s too erratic.”

And later, Laura’s curt reply: “You could do
it if you wanted to. If you’d take some time away from that
all-important fire department.”

Peter at thirteen: “I made the JV team, Dad.
Starting pitcher. My first game is in two weeks.”

“I’ll put it on my calendar.”

That hadn’t mattered. One of his men was
gravely injured in a fire and Cal had spent the day in the hospital
with the firefighter’s family. It wasn’t until ten o’clock at night
that he realized that he’d missed the first game his boy would play
in his school baseball career.

What the hell had Cal been thinking?

The crowd cheered as Peter’s team took the
field. Of course, Tommy was the pitcher. He warmed up with ease and
grace beyond that of a seven-year-old. The first pitch was a fast
ball, the batter swung and a strike was called. “Yes!” Cal yelled
and punched his fist in the air. Tommy caught sight of him, and his
face lit up with smiles.

The second pitch was hit, but it was a pop
fly that the first baseman caught, no problem. On the third batter,
Tommy garnered a 3-2 count. Cal felt an odd kind of excitement. The
kid wound up, threw the ball and it whizzed past the batter for the
final strike.

Watching the rest of the game was
bittersweet. He took pleasure in Tommy’s success and Peter’s
obvious joy in coaching his son, but all the while, Cal had his
face rubbed in what he’d lost. When the ninth inning ended, Cal
hung around. He hadn’t been asked to, but this week was Tommy’s
birthday and he wanted to give the boy the present he’d gotten for
him. Parents and grandparents swarmed the field, but Cal stayed
back. However, Tommy headed right to him after he did the
end-of-the-game protocols and gave Cal a big hug. “Papa. You came!
Wasn’t I good?”

“You were terrific, Tom.” Squatting down, he
held on to the boy, savoring his young, hearty embrace.

Sally joined them. “Hi, Cal.” She hugged him
when he stood.

Only his son kept his distance when he
approached them. “Hello, Dad.”

“Peter. Great job today.”

He tousled Tommy’s hair. “This one did all
the work.”

The kid’s face was bright with excitement.
“We get free ice cream at Abe’s”—their sponsor—“after the game if
we win. Can you come, Papa?”

Awkward didn’t begin to describe the mood
that descended. It eclipsed the still-shining sun and hot August
air.

God bless her heart, Sally intervened. “I
think that would be great. I’ll have company while Peter socializes
with the other parents.”

Cal stepped away from Peter’s stony gaze. “I,
um, maybe I shouldn’t.” Hell, he’d walked into burning buildings,
once met an arsonist face-to-face and had been trapped in a car
with a victim when the roof collapsed and never stuttered like
this.

Peter watched him.

He saw Sally poke him in the ribs.

And Tommy said, “Why not, Papa?”

Cal waited.