America's Bravest (58 page)

“Hell, I dropped the cutters.”

“Feel around for them, Sands.”

Listening to the very typical reaction to
RIT, Cal knew all was as it should be. This activity was designed
to give them a hard time.

He spoke into the radio. “Allen’s coming in,
guys. She there yet?”

“Who the hell knows?” Felicia growled. “We
can’t see anything. I don’t remember the mist being so thick
before.” On the same frequency, he asked, “Ms. Allen, you
okay?”

No answer. Jesus. He tried again.

“Parker, where are you?”

Nothing.

He glanced at his watch. Seven minutes…not
too bad. He kept calling into the radio. After ten, he headed to
the door, and as he reached it, he heard a whimper through her mic.
Oh, hell. What had he done now?

oOo

Her teeth chattered, even though the air was
suffocating. Her head hurt from where she’d bumped it on something.
She found a door, opened it, stepped through and came up against a
wall. Oh, God, no. Turning, she reached out. All walls. Where was
the opening?
Calm down, Parker. You can do this.

But there was no opening, no handle. It took
her a minute to realize the door had slammed shut. Her heart
started to beat so fast, it cramped. She backed up and suddenly she
was in another place, and another time.…

“Where the fuck are you?” she heard from out
in the bedroom. She’d run there, hoping to get away from him. She
could hardly move her arm, he’d wrenched it so badly. She tried to
stay as quiet as she could as she heard his footsteps. Once light
shined in, she saw what was in his hands. A belt…

“No, no, please don’t hurt me.”

“Open your shirt and I won’t.”

“W—what?”

“Open the goddamned shirt.”

Her hand fumbled on the buttons.

“There, now this will be better.”

He raised his arm and she felt the first
biting sting of the tip.…

oOo

Screams came from the second room in the
house. Mentally picturing the space he’d been in a thousand times,
Cal raced into it and the yelling got louder. “No, no, please,
no.”

Cal threw open the closet door. He couldn’t
see anything, but he was used to that, and he knew right where she
was. “Parker, it’s me, Cal.”

“No, Mike, no. Please…” She sobbed out the
words

Bending down, he felt for the outline of her
body. Carefully, he slid his arms under her, scooped her up and
held her close. She fought him, hard, but she was weeping
uncontrollably. “Shh, it’s me. Cal. You’re safe.”

Oh, Lord, he couldn’t be sorrier for sending
her in alone. Who knew she’d be claustrophobic?

Hugging her tight to his chest, he made his
way quickly and calmly outside. She was still bucking him, but he
subdued her and crossed to a tree. In the shade, he laid her out
flat.

“Shh, Parker, you’re out of there. You’re
safe.”

Her head shook wildly. “Never be safe.”

Cal looked her up and down to see if she was
hurt. There was an ugly bruise on the temple. The turnout coat was
off and she seemed to have ripped open her own blouse. What the
hell? A roadmap of scars crisscrossed her torso, old but still very
visible, from the plain white bra she wore to the turnout
pants.

Holy Mother of God, what had happened to this
woman? He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. A tightening of his
chest. She’d been yelling as if she was somewhere else, to a guy
named Mike. Had Cal been responsible for conjuring up some horrid
experience from her past? His heart clenched at the thought.

oOo

Reality finally dawned. Parker came to in a
blissfully cool room, the lights dim. Her hand went to her middle
and there was no pain. She was lying on a leather couch. As her
mind cleared, she heard the low murmurs of male voice across the
room. Glancing over, she saw Cal Erikson and a man talking. Slowly
she sat up. They noticed. Cal strode to her. Hunching down, he
didn’t touch her. He was probably afraid to. “I’m so sorry, Parker.
I shouldn’t have sent you in alone.”

She remembered opaque whiteness. Blinding
pain.

“I was mad about your blog today. I guess I
was trying to teach you a lesson.” He shook his head as if he
couldn’t believe what he’d done.

Mike Cameron had been trying to teach her a
lesson when he’d beat the shit out of her, too. It had something to
do with smiling at a waiter. What was it with men’s egos?

“Please, forgive me.”

For a moment, she didn’t react. Then she
shook herself and looked to the left at the other man in the
room.

“I’m Jack Harrison. Cal brought you in here
because you were upset and disoriented.” Ah, the fire department
psychologist. If she recalled correctly, she’d lobbied for his
position to be cut.

Parker closed her eyes. Oh, God, she’d
remembered every detail of her previous attack. With Cal Erikson as
a witness.

“Move back,” she said, and as soon as Cal
did, she swung her feet to the floor. Her stomach lurched. The
chief dropped down on a chair, and the psychologist took another.
At least she was eye level with them. Again, her hand went to her
stomach, and their gazes followed. She could sense they knew. Ah,
yes, Mike had ordered her to open her shirt, and she’d been living
in the nightmare.

“You saw.”

Cal nodded soberly.

A horrible thought assaulted her. “Did the
crew see, too?”

“No, no, they were still in the house. I
brought you here because you couldn’t settle down. I, um, did up
your shirt first. I’m the only one who saw the scars.”

“He told me,” Jack said soothingly. “Would
you like to talk about whatever happened to you?”

A shiver went up her spine. “God, no.”

“Have you seen a therapist?” Cal asked. “You
took a pretty brutal beating.”

“Over a decade ago. I’m fine.”

“Parker, you were scared and in pain when I
got you out.”

“I don’t like closed-in spaces.”

“I wish you’d told me. I can’t say how bad I
feel for sending you in.”

“I knew what you were doing. I thought I
could handle it.”

“That’s what old trauma does, Ms. Allen,”
Harrison put in. “It sneaks up on you and strikes.”

“Well, it’s over now.” She stood, though she
was a bit unsteady on her feet. “If you don’t mind, Chief, I’m
going to call it a day.”

“Will you be coming back to the firehouse at
all?”

Saner now, she managed to cock an eyebrow.
“Are you going to tell the group about my dirty little secret?”

“No! Of course not. I’ll say you got
claustrophobic.”

“I can live with that. Okay, I’ll be back on
your next tour. It’s a night shift, right?”

“Um, yeah. But I really think—“

He’d been kind and promised to keep her
secret, so she said, “I’m fine Chief, really. I’ll go home and swim
in the lake.”

“You shouldn’t be driving, Ms. Allen,”
Harrison said. “Let Cal bring you home.”

“No thanks. I’m used to taking care of
myself.” With that she walked from the office.

Outside, she leaned against the wall and took
in a deep breath, trying hard to squelch the old, familiar feelings
of humiliation and shame. She’d never thought she’d feel them
again.

In deference to the late August heat, Cal
dressed in navy shorts and a cotton, white polo shirt. With Dockers
on his feet, he headed out to Hale’s Haven to get a dose of the joy
the HCFD and HCPD gave sixty kids every summer. He couldn’t be
prouder of them. Even if Rescue 7 had been brutal when they heard
Parker Allen had gotten claustrophobic yesterday at the
training.…

“Wonder how she’ll use this against us,”
Licia had said.

All Cal could remember were trembling lips
and wide vacant eyes. “I don’t think she will. Claustrophobia
happens to laypeople.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t put it past her,”
O’Malley quipped.

There had been no blog today and Cal worried
about that. About her. All night long, when he couldn’t sleep, he
put together the pieces.
It was decades ago.
So she was in
her twenties when the life-changing event had happened.
No,
Mike, don’t please.
A guy named Mike had beat her up,
viciously.

And Cal would bet his chief’s badge the guy
had either been a firefighter or a cop. Which, on top of what had
happened with her father in the arson case, explained absolutely
everything about her vendetta. He couldn’t help feeling bad for her
and was suddenly glad he and Noah had decided not to dredge up her
background.

Once he arrived at the camp, he forgot about
the woman and got caught up in the excitement of the kids.

“Hey, buddy, good to see you here.” Noah,
dressed similarly, but wearing a camp hat, smiled broadly. “We’re
going out on the water in a few minutes. Want to come for a spin or
look around the camp?”

A fast blast of cool air on his face would be
bracing and wake him up some. “Water first, then look around.”

Ten minutes later, he was seated next to Noah
in the big party boat. Kids and counselors crowded into the back,
screeching with delight. Cal tried to enjoy the wind in his face
and the chitchat coming from Noah. “My in-laws live right there.”
Noah pointed to the condos on the other side of the lake.

“The Woodwards. Yeah, I know. So do Gabe and
Rachel, but down a ways from them.”

“Lakefront property is great in the summer.
Eve and I are thinking about buying a condo near them. Rick and
Faith Ruscio live next door, but believe or not, the condo on the
other side of them is for sale.”

“Kismet, then. Go for it.” Out of the blue,
Cal wished he had a brother or sister to share his life with. He
wished he was more important to his son and grandson. And he wanted
a woman in his life. He’d been divorced a long time. Hell, must be
exhaustion brought on sentimentality!

They sped down the lake to the ritzier
section of homes. Huge houses with big windows and expansive decks
overlooked the water. “See that wood-and-glass house, rising three
levels?”

“It’s a beauty.”

“The dreaded Parker Allen lives there.”

“Really? She has that much money?”

“Uh-huh. Family inheritance.”

“How do you know that?”

“I did a little digging of my own.”

“Find out anything else new about her?”

“Nothing you don’t know. She went to school
with Brody’s Emma at Northeastern, stayed in Chicago until she was
twenty-four, then moved around some and ended up in Hidden Cove.
That place used to be her grandparents’ home. She’s owned it a
while.”

Hmm. Chicago must be where the incident with
Mike had happened.

“Ever visited the Chicago smoke eaters?” he
asked Noah.

“Yeah, they’re a tough group. A lot like the
FDNY.” He waited a bit. “Why?”

“No reason.”

Which was a lie. But he couldn’t tell Noah
where his thoughts had gone. He couldn’t tell anybody about the
obscene scars on Parker Allen’s stomach, which went way, way
deeper.

Glancing over his shoulder at her
millions-of-dollars home, he wondered if she was there today,
trying to recover from her ordeal.

An ordeal Cal had engineered. He felt alike a
first-class shit.

oOo

The doorbell kept ringing. Parker huddled in
her bed like some freaking coward, afraid of what was behind the
door. She’d been in the same spot for thirty-six hours, staring
into space, watching some no-mind TV and eating enough so she
didn’t pass out.

Disgusted with herself, she flung off the
covers of her expensive down duvet, which had been protecting her
from the icy cold she’d felt since her experience in the training
tower. “Damn it, Parker. Quit cowering.” As she strode to the
steps, then downstairs to the entry, she glanced at her outfit.
Light cotton shorts and top. The mail carrier, UPS guy or whoever
it was would have to take her as she was—stringy hair, clothes
wrinkled—but she didn’t care. It was time to face the world.

She pulled open the door and realized she’d
made a mistake. It wasn’t a delivery. Standing before her was a
tall, broad-shouldered man, his green eyes filled with chagrin.
“Hi.”

“Chief?” She pushed back her hair and toed
her bare feet into the tile. “What are you doing here? And how did
you know where I lived?”

“I was across the lake at Hale’s Haven and
Noah pointed out your home.” He held up a bag. “I came bearing
gifts.”

Parker stared at him. She should tell him to
go away, but in truth, she didn’t want to be alone anymore. And
what did that say about her life that she’d keep company with the
enemy to ward off her total isolation from others? She dropped her
gaze to the bag he carried. “What did you bring?”

“Ice cream. I, um, always eat it when I’m
struggling.”

Lifting her chin, she asked, “You think I’m
struggling?”

“No, I am.”

That confession softened her ice-cold
heart.

“Please, let me come in and talk. I’ve been
thinking about you since yesterday.”

To stall for time, she eyed the ice cream,
her weakness. Then she looked over her shoulder at the empty house.
Calling herself all kinds of a fool, she stepped aside, let him in
and led him to the lower-floor sitting area.

He glanced around at the decorator’s
dream—stuffed rattan furniture in front of a triple set of glass
doors that looked out on the patio facing the pristine lake. The
doors were open, luring in the hot August air and a slight breeze.
“This is beautiful, Parker.”

“Thanks. My grandparents left the house to
me. I redecorated it in my own taste.”

He nodded. Did he already know her home had
been given to her? She chose not to worry if he did. “Sit.” She
went to the back, where a small kitchen hid behind the big room,
and retrieved spoons. When she returned, she sat adjacent to him on
a huge rocker and handed him one. “What kind did you bring?”