Burning for Autumn (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha) (On Call Book 1)

by Freya Barker

  “Still looking into a couple of things. Also, I talked to a friend of mine at the FBI field office; they are working on putting together a psychological profile. Once we have that, we’ll have a better idea of who we’re looking for.”

  “Hmmm. I’ve been trying to come with people I know, either through work or at the hospital.” She snorts, laughing at herself. “I even considered my ex-husband for a moment, but with him living with his new wife up in Canada now, I doubt he has anything to do with it. Even if he wasn’t two thousand miles away, he was worried about lighting candles at fucking Christmas. I’m pretty sure he’s lacking the balls to do something like this.”

  I give her shoulder a squeeze. “Red, love talking through shit with you. I’ve never been in a place where I could do that, but we’re in bed and you’re talking about your ex,” I point out. “I’ll talk about anything, but let’s keep that dipshit out?”

  I feel more than I see her chuckle as she presses her face into my chest. “My bad.” Her eyes sparkle when she looks up at me with a cheeky grin. “It’ll never happen again, but just for the record, there isn’t a man I know who measures up to you.”

  “Good to know, babe, but let’s get some shuteye. I have to be up early and give Benedetti a taste of the Durango PD before I introduce him to our mayor. I can guarantee that will not be an easy meeting.”

  Her smile softens and she scoots a little up my body, pressing a sweet kiss on my mouth before settling back against my side. Her arm slides possessively across my stomach again, and a cute as fuck little sigh of contentment escapes her lips.

  Two minutes later she’s asleep, her breath feathering through my chest hair. I follow not too long after, my body relaxed and sated, and my last thought is how fucking amazing she feels in my arms.

  Chapter 14

  Keith

  “Chief Blackfoot, good to see you.”

  I’m pretty sure he uses that title on purpose to annoy me. Or maybe he thinks if he does it often enough it’ll stick, I don’t know, but it grates on me.

  “Mayor.”

  Stan Woodard gets up from behind his desk and claps me on the shoulder, he gazes curiously over my shoulder where Tony and Joe walk in behind me.

  “Detective Ramirez,” he acknowledges with a nod, before he stretches his hand to Benedetti. “Don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

  “Stan, I’d like you to meet Commander Joe Benedetti of the Denver PD Major Crimes Division.”

  One eyebrow shoots up, but the politician comes out just in time, as his mildly irritated look is quickly replaced with his camera-ready smile.

  “Not sure what brings you here, Commander Benedetti, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “It’s Joe, Sir. I understand the office of Chief of Police is still open and would like to throw in my hat for consideration.”

  We went over the tactics for this meeting beforehand and Joe is playing his part perfectly.

  “That’s interesting.” Stan throws me a sharp glance, before plastering on his diplomatic smile again and turning back to Benedetti. “I wasn’t aware news had traveled as far as Denver. Please, have a seat.” He waits for us all to comply before he continues, “I have to admit, I’m caught a bit off guard. The department has been operating quite well under the capable hand of Chief Blackfoot. I wonder where you heard we might be looking to replace him?”

  “News travels, Sir. I came down to visit a friend and found out about the vacancy. I’ve been looking for a move to a smaller community than Denver to raise my family.”

  “A family man myself, I can certainly understand that. I’m sure your qualifications are beyond reproach, Commander Benedetti, but we were under the impression our temporary solution would turn into a more permanent one.”

  “I’m only bridging a gap, Stan, you know that,” I interrupt. “I have no intention of taking the job on a permanent basis.” The sharp glance flies my way again, his irritation palpable. “Joe Benedetti would be an absolute asset to the department.”

  “I see, and what makes you think—”

  “Perhaps you should at least have a look at my credentials,” Joe interrupts him, dropping the thick file he and Ramirez compiled today. “I’ve also included a proposal with some structural tweaks to the department that will not only improve interdepartmental communications, but will also save the town a healthy chunk on the budget.”

  Money talks, and it sure as fuck does with Stan, who pulls the paperwork toward him. For the next half hour, he flips through the pages, grilling Joe on details every so often. At the end of it he slaps the folder shut.

  “Very well. Leave it with me, and I’ll discuss this with council this coming week.”

  “Actually,” I pipe up. “Since Benedetti has to return to Denver Monday morning at the latest, and this matter has been left unresolved for almost a year, it might be in everyone’s best interests to call an emergency meeting sometime tomorrow?”

  “I can’t have council come in on a Sunday,” Stan protests as expected.

  “Sure you can, Stan,” I correct him, handing him a list. “You’ve done so three times in the past twelve months alone and for matters less pressing than this one. Besides, I’ve already checked with the bulk of the council members, and all those I’ve spoken to are willing to get this matter taken care of as soon as possible.”

  “I don’t see the urgency.”

  I lean forward in my chair, making sure his attention is focused on me. “Then you’re not paying attention. We have an arsonist on the loose that everyone—including you, Mr. Mayor—are looking to see behind bars as soon as possible. Ramirez has put in eighty hours in the past five days alone, and I’ve not been able to pull my weight on the case because I get mired down in my goddamn interim obligations. This is not a tenable situation, Stan, and this is an opportunity for you to take positive action that will have an impact not only on this case, but the future stability of the department.” With that last comment, he sits up a little straighter. Municipal elections are the first Tuesday of April every odd-numbered year, and every improvement he can add to his list of accomplishments before this term is up, he’ll be able to use as part of his campaign. Stan’s not a fool, but he is definitely pissed that he’s been cornered.

  “Commander Benedetti,” he says, his eyes landing pointedly on Joe. “Provided I’m able to convene a meeting at such short notice, would you be ready and available for council questioning tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You bet we will,” I add in my two cents, and I swear Stan rolls his eyes.

  It’s already after six when we walk out of City Hall.

  “That went well,” Tony points out, grinning.

  “Gotta strike the iron while it’s hot, and we didn’t give the man too much wiggle room. I’m sure I’ll be on his shit list for a good while, but that’ll only help our case. I’m pretty sure Joe here can head home on Monday and get his shit sorted on that end.”

  “Jesus, I came here just to explore options, and I may be leaving with a new job. I feel like I’ve been on a fucking roller-coaster ride. Good thing the kids’ school is out for summer, it at least will give me time to get them settled in before the new school year. I’ll also need to find a house.”

  “I know someone who can help with that,” Tony offers. “If there’s time tomorrow, I’ll introduce you. She’s a great real estate agent.”

  “Tomorrow. Shit. I’ll miss my little guy’s soccer.”

  I clap a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, but think—by the end of this summer—you’ll have a job that’ll be close enough to the soccer fields you could easily pop out to watch his practice.”

  “Let’s hit The Irish. That’s one thing we left out of our tour today.” Tony grins and starts walking.

  “Not taking the car?” Joe asks him.

  “That’s another benefit of working in Durango: the pub is around the corner from the office.”

  “This just gets better and better,�
�� Joe mumbles under his breath.

  Grinning, I pull my phone from my pocket. “You guys go ahead, I’ve got a quick call to make.”

  Today’s is a fucking great day, there’s no way I’m going to celebrate without Red.

  Autumn

  My neighbor is funny. I was on my way out the door when Mr. Bartik, or Joseph as he insists, stuck his head outside. He must’ve been listening for me. He wanted to thank me for dinner and the leftovers, mentioning he ate those for breakfast because he’d run out of oatmeal. Since I’m heading to the grocery store anyway, I offer to pick some up for him and the next thing I know, he produces a list.

  “You think of anything else, you’ve got my number.”

  My body is a bit stiff today and it’s tempting to grab the car, but I force myself to leave it in the driveway. The walk will do me good.

  I remember waking up briefly this morning when Keith left, pressing a kiss to my forehead, but I must’ve fallen back asleep right away. Finally hauled my ass out of bed at eleven. I can’t remember a time I slept in that late past my teenage years. I may not be the cheeriest in the morning, but I’m an early riser. Getting up that late threw me off my rhythm, and as a result, it was already two by the time I got my ass in gear.

  It’s only a quarter mile or so to the City Market, and the weather is great for a walk. I don’t need a lot myself and from the quick glance I had at Joseph’s grocery list, none of it is particularly heavy.

  Every step I take, I’m reminded of the workout my body was subjected to last night, under Keith’s very skilled guidance. In all my years of occasional flings, and even my marriage before that, I’ve never been put through the paces quite like he did. I’ve also not actually slept with anyone since my divorce. Sex was more about filling a physical need, one that did not require batteries or my own hand. Once the need was filled, there was no other reason to stay or invite them to stick around.

  That’s not the case with Keith. He uses everything in his arsenal: his hands, mouth, cock, eyes, and that voice. Even after our bodies were sated, I didn’t want him to leave. The man has me feeling weightless, with only him to anchor me. He doesn’t just play my body like an instrument, he makes my soul sing.

  Crossing Main Avenue, it occurs to me that people here are so friendly. Everyone I encounter seems to smile and nod, as if they know me. It’s not until I catch my reflection in a store window, that I realize I’ve had a smile plastered on my face the entire time.

  It doesn’t take me long to grab the few things I need, plus whatever is on Joseph’s list, but it is a tad heavier than I thought. By the time I’m halfway home, I’m cursing myself. With every step the damn bags feel heavier.

  “Hey! Autumn?”

  I swing around and see Jen jogging after me. Grateful for the momentary reprieve, I set my bags down and wait for her to catch up.

  “What are you up to?” I ask her with a smile. She’s dressed in flashy pink active wear, looking like she’s heading for a workout, but that doesn’t quite mesh with the shopping bags in her hand.

  “Ugh.” She wipes at her brow, trying to catch her breath. “I was bored, so I thought I’d go for a jog.”

  “A jog?” I look pointedly at the bags sporting the names of some of the high-end stores along Main Avenue.

  “I said I was thinking about it,” she deadpans, and I bust out laughing at the big-eyed innocent expression on her face. “I swear I had every intention, but then I spotted that Blu Boutique had a sale on. They have these fabulous kimonos that look to die for with a faded pair of jeans and a tank. Perfect shabby chic. I got two,” she admits with a sheepish grin, opening the one bag so I can have a peek.

  “Nice prints,” I admire.

  “Thanks. Anyway, so I obviously couldn’t jog with a bag in my hand, so I kept shopping instead.” She leans in and stage-whispers, “I’ve already spent half my paycheck—please rescue me from bankruptcy and come with me for a drink?”

  I laugh at her antics. She’s actually really nice, a little off her rocker, but sweet and funny too. I point at my own bags. “I have to get these groceries home, though. Otherwise I would’ve loved it.”

  “That’s okay. Some other time.” Her voice is perky but doesn’t quite hide the flash of disappointment on her face, and I make an on the spot decision.

  “You know what? If you really have nowhere to be, I’m just two blocks down, walk me home? I just need to give my neighbor his groceries and put my own things away, but I have a bottle of wine in that bag we can tackle.”

  “Sweet,” she chirps, bending down to grab the heavy grocery bag I was indicating and starts walking. Bonus.

  “…so anyway, I told the guy he could shove his come-on line where the sun don’t shine and swivel.”

  I snicker at Jen’s description.

  We’ve been telling each other some of our worst encounters with the opposite sex, and I haven’t laughed this much since my last girls’ night out in San Antonio. It feels good just to chill, talk about silly stuff, and giggle like schoolgirls.

  But I’m also coming to realize that underneath Jen’s bubbly and youthful exterior, she hides a maturity I wouldn’t have given her credit for, had I not seen it surface in her dealings with Joseph. He took to her like a moth to the flame when we dropped his groceries off. She gentled immediately, taking time to get to know him a little. By the time we left his place to go to mine, the two of them had made plans to play cards at the Legion next week. Apparently, Joseph used to go weekly, but hasn’t been able to walk the few blocks to get there for months.

  I have a whole new appreciation for Jen.

  “What about those guys with their shirts open one button too far? Ever seen those? When their only claim to manhood is the healthy rug on their chest, and they use every opportunity to sometimes literally rub that in your face? Ewww. Also, nine out of ten wear a gold chain, or something equally atrocious, to draw attention to their number one attribute. It always reminds me of John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. Of course it was hot in the late seventies, which is where they should’ve left it.” Her full body shiver makes me laugh, and I remember one occasion where I had the same reaction.

  “I dated a guy once who looked like a yeti. Not only were his pubes halfway to his knees, it took me ten minutes of digging to find his dick, only to discover it hadn’t been worth the lengthy excavation.” True story, I remember saying I needed a bathroom break and hightailed it out of his dinky apartment like the devil was on my heels.

  “Oh good Lord, don’t make me spit out my wine.”

  “Did you want some more?” I ask her, already getting to my feet to grab the bottle in the kitchen. My phone rings on the counter and I snatch it up, seeing Keith’s name appear on the screen. “Hey, honey.” The term of endearment slips quite naturally from my lips.

  “Where are you?” he asks without a hello. Immediately my hackles go up.

  “Home. Where are you?”

  “Ditching Joe and Tony and on my way to your place. You sound fucking sexy calling me that.”

  I cast a quick glance at my living room, where Jen is snuggled in on my couch, two cats on her lap.

  “Actually, I have company,” I softly announce.

  “Fuck. Who? Can you get rid of them?”

  “Well…”

  “Never mind, that was rude. Okay, back to plan A, which was to celebrate the fact we were able to corner Woodard into calling an emergency council meeting for immediate consideration of Benedetti for Chief of Police.”

  I can hear the relief in his voice.

  “That’s awesome news! Congrats—that deserves a celebration.”

  “There’s a party?” Jen’s attention seems immediately piqued.

  “Who’s that?” Keith asks in my other ear.

  “Jen’s here. You know Jen Raymond? I work with her at Mercy?”

  “Bring her.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I was calling to see if you’d come have a drink and maybe grab so
mething to eat with us. Bring Jen along.”

  Chapter 15

  Keith

  The place is packed. Not surprising on a Saturday night.

  Ramirez already looks to have a table secured.

  “She coming?” he asks when I sit down, a smirk on his face. He doesn’t seem impressed with the glare I throw him, but instead pours me a beer from the pitcher he somehow managed to get on the table already. “Got her an extra glass. Or does she drink wine?”

  “Guinness most likely. Keep the glass for her friend, she might drink beer.”

  “Friend? Only one?”

  “Jesus, Ramirez, think maybe it’s time to grow out of that?” I shake my head at him. Might be a little hypocritical, because a few years ago I wasn’t much different. Take what you can when you can.

  “Not both for me, dipshit, I thought maybe Joe—”

  “Joe nothing,” the large man grumbles, his face a blank mask as he stares Tony down.

  “Christ, sorry man. I’m an idiot.”

  I reach over and slap him upside the head. “Yes, you are.” I turn to Joe and radically change the subject. “You hungry? They have a pretty decent fish and chips here, and the burgers aren’t too bad either.”

  Tony is just pouring my second beer—the first went down a little too easy—when he tilts his head to the bar. I look over to see Evan drinking with some of the guys from the firehouse.

  Ramirez has looked into him, as inconspicuously as possible. Nothing showed up, other than he was at all but one of the fires. Unfortunately, it would’ve been better for him had he been at that last fire up on Delwood, it would’ve meant he couldn’t have lit the shed in Autumn’s backyard. Technically, it would be possible for him to have set both.

  His is not the only name on that list of first responders, but after the shed fire, I’m starting to feel we might be barking up the wrong tree with that.