“I’m good. Stupid kids.”
He grinned. “I seem to remember us being just as stupid once upon a time.” He glanced over at the ashes in the center of the crumbling pavement. “We were smart enough to leave the fire inside the barrels when I used to come out here.”
“Still stupid.”
He crossed his arms, and I tried not to notice how they bulged. The hot, fresh memory of those muscles throwing around the barrel dried my mouth.
“I’ve done a lot of stupid things, Parker.”
“Chief?”
I turned to the voice, spotting Trevor at the mouth of the alleyway. I glanced back at Cash. “I gotta go.”
He nodded. “I’ll find my way out of here.” He glanced around, then grabbed my hand. “I’ll be around later.”
My heart pounded in my ears and so much lower.
I nodded then slipped free of his calloused hand and ran over to Trevor. I got the details from the accident and that Marco Palmer was dead. His victim, Helen Morris, had been rushed to Albany Med and was in surgery.
God, that was the woman who had sold me my house.
What a damn mess.
The next few hours were chaotic. The mayor left three messages with Leroy while I was dealing with the aftermath of the fire, the accident, and all the paperwork that came with it.
I didn’t have any proof of who had started the fires near the bottling plant, but it was obvious that the area needed to be dealt with sooner than later.
We’d gotten lucky with the small fire, but it could have gone so much worse. The summer had been all heat and no rain for the last few weeks making things dangerous to begin with.
The minute I walked back into the station, I noticed how much brighter it was. Not only had Cash fixed all the buzzing lights, but he’d replaced the last of the fluorescent lights with daylight style ones far easier on the eyes. He’d also painted the dingy walls a blue gray that wouldn’t show dirt so easily.
I walked through the quiet room. It was well after six and we were in between the new shift start. Trevor was quietly tapping away at his keyboard with a cup of coffee in hand.
I slipped into my office, freezing as I walked in. The drop ceiling tiles had been removed and wires hung down mid-progress. However, over my desk, Cash had already pulled down the framing and instead of the unsightly wires, he’d tucked themup into more of those daylight recessed lighting from the main part of the station.
Drying joint compound neatly sealed the edges between ceiling and wall. Instead of doing the job the easier way, he’d made sure I had a spot to work without the chaos.
I collapsed into my chair, my eyes stinging.
Such a simple thing, but so appreciated.
I blinked away the tears and peeled back the heavy-duty Velcro of my vest. I unholstered my gun, locking it in my safe in my bottom drawer. I’d sweat through everything, including the material over my Kevlar. Grimacing, I dumped the whole thing into my bag to wash it at home. I’d already changed into my backup shirt, which just left me cranky to add to the tired.
I pulled my keyboard out from under my screen to write up my report for the mayor. When my phone rang, I nearly ignored it.
Fatigue sat on me like a wet blanket.
Deciding I preferred sleep to having Mayor Finley blow up my phone all morning, I took the call. After the initial dressing down, we came to an understanding that the warehouses needed to be dealt with.
And I was in charge of finding the bodies to clean it up.
Yay me.
It was well past the end of my shift and the station was coming alive with the day crew. Lisa Dennings, my second in command, had everything in hand and shooed me out the door.
In the parking lot, Cash was leaning on the front of his truck. “Get in Parker.”
Tempted to argue, I looked around.
