Sandy pouted, her lower lip stuck out. “Why, you have no idea how many men might be seeing my naked toenails!”
“I wish.”
Sandy looked over and lifted an eyebrow as confusion filled her eyes.
Sighing, Harper said, “You know, Sandy, you can’t fool me. For all the world, you show a flirt, but I know you. I know that you always go home alone.”
Sandy’s face sobered, and Harper shoulder bumped her. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I love you just the way you are. I just want you to be happy.”
“It’s hard… hard to trust. I refuse to cower away from men, but neither do I want to be alone with them.”
Their toes now painted, the two women leaned back against the sofa cushions, their feet still propped up on the coffee table as the polish dried. Harper, resting her still-splinted wrist in her lap, wrapped her right arm around her friend. “I know it’s hard. But I also know that one day you’ll meet a man that you can trust. Someone who won’t hurt you ever.”
Snorting, Sandy said, “Okay, I think that’s going a little too far. After all, no man is perfect.” Harper grinned, and Sandy groaned. “Okay, I suppose Sean is perfect?”
Pretending to think, Harper tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Don’t know that I would call him perfect, but he’s pretty close!”
Laughing, Sandy threw out, “Wait until there’s dirty underwear to wash, belches after meals, and farts when—”
“Stop!” she cried, both women now laughing.
After a moment, Sandy admitted, “Well, I for one, am thrilled. If anyone deserves perfect, it’s you, Harper.”
Laying her head against Sandy’s, they continued to sit and wiggle their toes dry. “I feel like he gets me. We can talk and I don’t get bored. And when I’m talking, he looks at me and listens to every word. I can’t remember the last time I went on a date and someone actually listened to me.”
“Probably never?” Sandy quipped.
“You’re right. I can’t ever remember feeling as though someone was giving me all of their attention. He’s smart, dedicated, and oh so gorgeous.”
“Yes, don’t forget how gorgeous he is!” The two women laughed together again, continuing to sip their wine, then Sandy looked toward Harper. “I really am happy for you. And if he happens to have a brother or a good friend like him, I wouldn’t be opposed to meeting them.”
“You did meet his brother. Rory, remember? He was with Bill and that other firefighter that night at the bar.”
She watched as a blush hit Sandy’s cheeks, and her friend adopted a blasé expression. “Oh, yeah, I seem to remember meeting someone named Rory.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tease Sandy, saying that she was sure she remembered him in more than just passing, but she stopped the words before they could be expressed. Somehow, she did not think Sandy was as unaffected by Rory as she pretended. Smiling to herself, she drained her glass, plopped her feet back down onto the floor, and stood. “Ready for more wine?”
Two hours and another bottle of wine later, Harper asked Sandy to spend the night, but Sandy insisted she needed to get home. Calling for a taxi, the two women walked outside, running into Daniel. He insisted on waiting with them and leaned down to get the driver’s ID when he pulled up.
Hugging Sandy, she whispered in her ear, “Remember, there are good guys out there. You’ll find one.”
Sandy grinned and whispered in return, “I’m just happy right now that you’ve found one.”
Waving as the taxi drove down the road, she turned to Daniel and they walked back into the building. Saying good night, she moved into her apartment, flipped the lock, and sighed. It had been a wonderful evening, but she missed talking to Sean.
Stepping back into her apartment, she scanned the room. The wine bottles were already rinsed and in the recycle bin, and the wine glasses were already in the dishwasher. Yay for Sandy always helping with cleanup. She walked back to her bedroom, finding Smokey had already curled on her bed.
The wine that had made her and Sandy giggle as they watched an old chick flick was now making her mellow. She glanced at the clock by the side of the bed, seeing that it was just shy of midnight. I wonder where Sean is now.
As though on cue, her phone vibrated with an incoming message and she grabbed it off her nightstand. Peering at the screen, she smiled as she read the message from Sean.
How was gorl’s night/
Snorting at his misspellings, she typed back. It was fun as always. How was poker night?
It was. Difren
Different.
Still smiling, she was now intrigued and typed, Different good or different bad?
Her phone rang, and seeing this name, she connected quickly. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, yes,” he assured. “It’s just I figured if you were awake it would be easier to talk instead of text. My fingers are too big for texting. I hope that’s okay.”
She settled back against the pillows on her bed, watched as Smokey lifted his head and gave her a sleepy blink before laying his head back down. “It’s absolutely okay. But tell me, what was wrong with your poker night?”
“It turned out that you and I were the topic of conversation.”
Blinking, she repeated, “You and me? The topic of conversation?”
“You have to understand, I’m the oldest of six kids and haven’t brought a woman around to meet the family since... well, ever. So, the fact that you and I are going out became a topic that first my brother brought up, then my friends jumped on, and then my mom, who was in the kitchen... Well, let’s just say her ears perked up. Now, it looks like they’d like you to come over for dinner sometime.”
Multiple thoughts slammed into her all at once. Excitement over the idea that his family wanted to meet her mixed with concern since she and Sean had only gone on a couple of dates. The idea that her relationship with him could be leading somewhere was thrilling, but right now, he did not sound too thrilled. Finally breaking the silence, she said, “And... um... how do you feel about that?”
“I think I’d like to have a few more dates under my belt before we tackle a huge McBride family dinner where you meet everyone.”
She also wanted more time together, but a sliver of disappointment moved through her that he was not ready for her to meet his family. Self-doubt slithered into her thoughts. “Right, sure,” she stammered. “That’s a big step and we certainly don’t want to—”
“Don’t get me wrong, Harper,” Sean interrupted. “I’d love to take you to meet my parents. But all the McBrides at one time?”
“What’s wrong with all the McBrides?”
“Honestly? There’s really nothing wrong with my family, but we’re close, and we get in each other’s business. I’m the quietest one of the family, and a few of my siblings can get loud and wouldn’t mind questioning you endlessly.”
“You make it sound intimidating.”
“All kidding aside, they’re really great. I know I’m lucky my parents have been together forever, and my siblings would do anything for each other, just like I’d do anything for them.”
Relief hit, easing the nerves jumping in her stomach. “Well, I definitely think we can hold off just a bit on a McBride family dinner. After all, tomorrow night you’re supposed to be coming to my house for dinner.”
His voice deepened. “Looking forward to it, Harper.”
The change in his voice now sent a shiver through her at the thought that they could pick up where they left off the other evening. Clearing her throat, she asked, “I have to go to the grocery store tomorrow, so is there anything you don’t like?”
“You fix it, I’ll eat it.”
She started to protest, but he assured, “Honey, growing up in a big family, Mom was a good cook and didn’t have time to fix eight individual meals. She cooked food and we were expected to eat what she cooked. Then I was in the military, and believe me, you ate what was put in front of you. Honestly, sweetheart,
I’m thrilled that you want to cook dinner for me, and I’ll enjoy anything you fix.”
Her smile widened in anticipation of the evening to come, and as they said goodbye, she slid down in the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Smokey lifted his head once more to stare at her, blink again, then lay his head back down. Harper smiled, the idea that tomorrow night Sean would be back in her apartment, and maybe, just maybe, in her bed. After all, a girl can hope.
19
Harper continually thought of her upcoming date with Sean. Glad my day isn’t busy. Instead of work, she pondered her menu. Creamy garlic chicken was her first idea, then dismissed that choice, knowing she did not want to have garlic breath with what she hoped would end up being a night filled with kisses. Kisses leading to sex. Sex leading to more sex. Definitely no garlic.
Stuck on thoughts of sex with Sean, she continued her list, only now not just groceries. Change sheets. Pull out sexy lingerie. When was the last time I wore sexy lingerie? She still had the condom Sandy put in her purse for her last date with Sean but hoped he would bring more.
“Harper?”
Her attention jerked up as Martin popped his head out of his office. “I need to see you, please.”
She immediately tucked her list into her purse and walked to his office. “Yes?”
“There was a fire last night with one of our clients. The wife called from the hospital. It was hard to understand what all happened, but I need you to go to their home now.”
Thoughts of her date flew out of her mind as she imagined a fire that would have sent someone to the hospital. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she let it out slowly and then nodded.
“I’m sending the fire report to you now, and as soon as Peter gets back from lunch, I’m sending him out there as well. I’d like to go ahead and have your assessment.”
She turned and went back to her desk, grabbing her purse and phone before moving to the supply closet and retrieving her evidence kit. Checking to make sure she had everything she needed, she rushed down to her car.
The home was in a suburb outside the inner city, but it only took about twenty minutes to get there. Driving down the residential street, she noted well-tended but modest homes on either side. As she looked down the road, it was easy to see her destination without the need for GPS.
Even if it had not been for the yellow caution tape that was wrapped around several of the trees in the front yard, the blackened, hollowed-out hulk of a former house was easy to spy. Her stomach clenched thinking of the fire consuming the home and the fear of the family that had been inside. Her boss had not mentioned a fatality, but he had mentioned the hospital. As she parked, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a moment, sending up a prayer for the family.
With her evidence kit slung over her shoulder, she walked up the driveway, her mind settling into observation and evidence collection mode. She glanced at her phone, reading the preliminary fire report that Martin had sent her, indicating the fire originated from a space heater in the living room.
She walked around the outside of the home first, noting the destruction was mostly in the front of the house, decreasing as she made her way toward the back. After circling the house, she stepped through the front door, her boots crunching over the charred wood. Recording directly into her phone, she talked through her observations.
“The entry foyer is destroyed, although the floor appears intact. To the left is the living room, the fire damage worse in the back corner on the floor. A nearby sofa is charred as well as an end table and two other chairs.”
She stopped recording and snapped pictures, making sure to get every angle.
“The dining room to the right has fire damage from the walls closest to the hall, lessening toward the far right. The hall splitting the middle has smoke and water damage, with the walls destroyed closest to the living room.”
She continued taking pictures, documenting her observations. Moving down the hall toward the kitchen, she could see that it had mostly smoke and water damage. Before she had a chance to go upstairs, Peter arrived at the front door.
He saw her on the stairs and before she had a chance to greet him, he asked, “Have you already finished down here?”
Hearing the strident tone of his voice, she sighed. “No, I haven’t done any collection at all. I walked around the perimeter, dictated my first impressions of the living room, dining room, hall, and kitchen, and I was going to go upstairs to see what we have on the second floor. I figured you’d be here by then, and we could collect evidence down here together.”
“I got this down here,” he said quickly.
“We’ll collect it together.” He did little to hide his glower at her repeated statement. Until you’re fully certified in fire evidence collection, you’re supposed to work under me, dickhead.
While he walked around downstairs and outside, she made her way upstairs and checked the bedrooms. The parents’ bedroom was in the back, and much like the kitchen had water and smoke damage. There were two bedrooms closer to the front of the house, and the one directly over the living room had sustained the most damage. The wooden floor was blistered, and she did not take a chance on it holding her weight even though it had been cleared by the fire department.
Her gaze settled on a crib in the corner and her heart squeezed. Whenever there was a house fire where the occupants were at home, it was as though she could feel their terror.
Back downstairs, she met Peter as he was coming through the front door again. Determined to be pleasant and professional, she nodded toward him. “Go ahead and start processing what you see, and then we can do a comparison to make sure we haven’t missed anything.”
He walked around the living room, and she listened as he dictated his notes, agreeing with most of his findings. He noted the origin of the fire and its placement. He noted that the fire traveled through the room by way of the sofa and floors. He noted a small, electrical space heater in the corner and said, “There’s the culprit. I read the fire department’s report and have to agree that it started here. They must not have turned it off when they went to bed.”
She gave him a sharp look. “Did you examine it?”
“No, but we can tell that’s where the fire started. It doesn’t matter if they forgot to turn it off or if it was faulty, our company will pay either way.”
“The work you’ve done is good, Peter, but you’re stopping just short of knowing the whole story. If the space heater was faulty, then the family might want to have the company know that. If they left it on, they should know that as well.”
“But neither of those have any bearing on whether or not Eastern Mutual Insurance company pays. Not with the policy they had.”
Nodding, she held on to her exasperation. “I agree. All I’m saying is that for the family’s peace of mind, exactly how the space heater caught their house on fire is something they should know.”
She heard him scoff but ignored him as she moved to the corner and knelt among the charred remains, taking a look at the small, black metal heater. It was charred, but she could still see that the on-off switch had been placed to the off position. Snapping pictures, she stood and turned around, facing Peter.
His brow furrowed as he asked, “And was it on?”
“It’s a simple heater with an on-off button,” she replied. “It had been flipped to the off position. We’ll check with the fire department report as well, but that means that this fire was not the fault of the family.”
Peter remained quiet, not refuting what she said, but his lips were pursed. She walked back out to her car, opened the trunk, and pulled out a large evidence bag that would hold the space heater. Back inside the house, she and Peter carefully placed it in the bag and sealed it, marking the location.
“At least the family can have someone take a look at this to see what started the fire.”
“But for the insurance company, our employer,” Peter pushed, “that’s just extra for the family. We’ve done our
due diligence in the job.”
“We should always strive to do more than the bare minimum in our job.”
His gaze moved to her hand, the scars plainly visible. “For you, maybe more is needed.” He looked around before turning his gaze back to her. “We finished here?”
“Yeah, Peter. I can take the evidence to the lab since it’s on the way to the hospital.”
Jerking back, his brow lowered. “Hospital?”
“Yes. I want to visit the family before we send the adjuster.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled. He walked out, leaving the evidence bags for her to take to the lab, and she stood on the front stoop watching him drive away, her breath leaving her lungs in a rush.
Technically, he was good at what he did and would soon be certified in collection, but on a personal level, she knew that he would never get it. He would never get the emotional toll that the fire caused to the family.
She held up her hand, the splint on her wrist not hiding the burn scars that covered the back of her hand and down her fingers. Sean’s easy acceptance of the scars stood in sharp contrast to Peter’s comment. She was used to stares... even used to comments. She knew she was lucky because the fire she experienced could have been so much worse. Maybe Peter’s right... maybe this does make me want to do more.
Giving a mental shake, she turned around and looked back inside the house, pictures skewed on the wall, some damaged by fire and others by water. A highchair, burned and melted, was near the dining room table. This hollowed out, charred, blackened building had been a home as recently as yesterday.
Dipping under the yellow caution tape, she walked back to her car and pulled out her phone. Calling Martin, she let him know what she had ascertained. “I’m heading to the lab and then the hospital to talk to the family. From there, I’m going home.”
“How did Peter do?”
Thinking for just a moment, she considered her answer. “He has the technical ability and the knowledge necessary. I don’t see him having any problem at all passing his certification test.”
A Hope City Duet Page 37
