would try to come
in the next morning. She didn’t make it. When she arrived yesterday, Connor
didn’t hide his concern.
“Hell, half pint. You look terrible. Damn, I didn’t think
you could get any thinner. Are you sure you’re okay?”
When she’d claimed she felt fine, he conceded, but insisted
that if she felt sick, all she had to do was let him know.
The big news at the Firehouse was the identification of the
bodies at the Charlotte Prairie fire. The entire town was consumed with the
story. It was the focus of the local news, the topic of each excited
conversation. It wasn’t every day that Chicadia Falls was the locus of the
hottest news in the state, or it seemed in the country. Connor told her that he
and Chief Halloran had been interviewed by every newspaper in the state from
the Minneapolis Star to the Chicadia Falls Gazette. Hell, the New York Times
and the Wall Street Journal even sent stringers, confirming Masterson’s
standing in the financial world. A couple of reporters from California showed
up and television crews camped at the entrances surrounding the Firehouse until
Connor shooed them off. His exasperation was clear. What was exciting at first,
quickly became a nuisance. When two of the news trucks blocked the driveway to
the engine bay, Connor’d had enough. He established a 500-yard perimeter around
the firehouse, insisting that any news people required permission from him or
the Chief to pass the boundary.
“It’s a damn good thing you weren’t here, half pint. Those
news vultures are always looking for a new hook. After we’d told them the same
thing for two days in a row, they got bored. All they would have needed was a
beautiful firefighter to add ‘color’ to their stories.”
Erin kept her head down entering and leaving the station.
Dressed in slacks and a blouse, the news people assumed she was a secretary and
she made her way in and out of the station unnoticed. She didn’t have a
television and hadn’t read any of the newspapers and she didn’t participate in
the ‘buzz’ throughout the station regarding the ‘big news.’ Blessedly, everyone
assumed she wasn’t feeling well, and gave her more distance than usual.
Fortunately the work load yesterday and today was light. A
couple of calls for minor accidents on Highway 2 and several school visits at
the firehouse were the only things she had to do outside of training exercises
and paperwork. After Erin’s first month at the firehouse, Connor had asked if
she minded being one of the presenters for the school groups. He’d laughed.
“Don’t want you to feel like a circus act, half pint, but you’re our star
attraction. Sure, some of the other Houses have women firefighters but they
sure as hell don’t look like you.” She vaguely remembered the faces of the
children yesterday, their eager questions. Watching them clamber over the
trucks, asking about the ‘jaws of life.’ Wanting to know how girls could become
‘firemen.’
Nate had left several messages checking up on her when she
called in sick, as did Blake. Both wanted to make sure she was feeling okay and
to see if she needed anything. She assured them she didn’t. She thought about
running away, but after sitting in her car for over five hours without turning
on the ignition, she acknowledged she had nowhere to go. Laying on her bedroll
staring sightlessly at the ceiling, she marveled at the irony. It was as though
God had played a hideous joke on her. For two years on the run, she’d managed
to escape Dylan. Now that he was dead, he’d caught up with her.
~~~
Erin looked up to see Officers Maze and Coulter approaching
her desk. She took a deep breath and stood up, reaching for her purse in the
bottom drawer of her desk.
“You’re going to need to come with us, Erin.” Peter Maze’s
voice sounded like an echo as though he was speaking to her through a long
tunnel.
She nodded and moved into the aisle between the desks. As
they were leaving,
in the next morning. She didn’t make it. When she arrived yesterday, Connor
didn’t hide his concern.
“Hell, half pint. You look terrible. Damn, I didn’t think
you could get any thinner. Are you sure you’re okay?”
When she’d claimed she felt fine, he conceded, but insisted
that if she felt sick, all she had to do was let him know.
The big news at the Firehouse was the identification of the
bodies at the Charlotte Prairie fire. The entire town was consumed with the
story. It was the focus of the local news, the topic of each excited
conversation. It wasn’t every day that Chicadia Falls was the locus of the
hottest news in the state, or it seemed in the country. Connor told her that he
and Chief Halloran had been interviewed by every newspaper in the state from
the Minneapolis Star to the Chicadia Falls Gazette. Hell, the New York Times
and the Wall Street Journal even sent stringers, confirming Masterson’s
standing in the financial world. A couple of reporters from California showed
up and television crews camped at the entrances surrounding the Firehouse until
Connor shooed them off. His exasperation was clear. What was exciting at first,
quickly became a nuisance. When two of the news trucks blocked the driveway to
the engine bay, Connor’d had enough. He established a 500-yard perimeter around
the firehouse, insisting that any news people required permission from him or
the Chief to pass the boundary.
“It’s a damn good thing you weren’t here, half pint. Those
news vultures are always looking for a new hook. After we’d told them the same
thing for two days in a row, they got bored. All they would have needed was a
beautiful firefighter to add ‘color’ to their stories.”
Erin kept her head down entering and leaving the station.
Dressed in slacks and a blouse, the news people assumed she was a secretary and
she made her way in and out of the station unnoticed. She didn’t have a
television and hadn’t read any of the newspapers and she didn’t participate in
the ‘buzz’ throughout the station regarding the ‘big news.’ Blessedly, everyone
assumed she wasn’t feeling well, and gave her more distance than usual.
Fortunately the work load yesterday and today was light. A
couple of calls for minor accidents on Highway 2 and several school visits at
the firehouse were the only things she had to do outside of training exercises
and paperwork. After Erin’s first month at the firehouse, Connor had asked if
she minded being one of the presenters for the school groups. He’d laughed.
“Don’t want you to feel like a circus act, half pint, but you’re our star
attraction. Sure, some of the other Houses have women firefighters but they
sure as hell don’t look like you.” She vaguely remembered the faces of the
children yesterday, their eager questions. Watching them clamber over the
trucks, asking about the ‘jaws of life.’ Wanting to know how girls could become
‘firemen.’
Nate had left several messages checking up on her when she
called in sick, as did Blake. Both wanted to make sure she was feeling okay and
to see if she needed anything. She assured them she didn’t. She thought about
running away, but after sitting in her car for over five hours without turning
on the ignition, she acknowledged she had nowhere to go. Laying on her bedroll
staring sightlessly at the ceiling, she marveled at the irony. It was as though
God had played a hideous joke on her. For two years on the run, she’d managed
to escape Dylan. Now that he was dead, he’d caught up with her.
~~~
Erin looked up to see Officers Maze and Coulter approaching
her desk. She took a deep breath and stood up, reaching for her purse in the
bottom drawer of her desk.
“You’re going to need to come with us, Erin.” Peter Maze’s
voice sounded like an echo as though he was speaking to her through a long
tunnel.
She nodded and moved into the aisle between the desks. As
they were leaving,
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