MIKE The Firefighters of Station 8

by Samanthya Wyatt

  “Can’t complain too much. Had the shit knocked out of me, but I’m lucky to be alive.”

  Mike darted a glance to the doorway, making sure Ryan’s wife wasn’t within earshot. The guys spoke more freely without the family listening. “I believe so, too. When that house exploded, you flew through the air like a cannonball.”

  “Still feels as though a giant beat me with a sledge hammer. Some training exercise. Did someone forget to tell me the plan?”

  “At least you can joke about it.”

  Ryan gave a shrug. “I’ve done that same maneuver a hundred times. Never had a house knock me on my ass like that before.” Ryan had been with the fire department for fifteen years. Excellent at his job, he had instructed several training exercises.

  “Damn, I’m sorry man.”

  “Weren’t your fault.”

  Jared filled in the lapse of silence. “We visited you at the hospital, but you were pretty out of it.”

  “Sorry, guys. I didn’t know. The drugs made me sleepy, and the doctors said sleep was the best thing I could do.”

  “How bad was it?” Maybe he shouldn’t ask, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind talking about his injuries. As a firefighter, Mike knew the team would want to know.

  “My injuries were worse from the power of the blast than the burns. The suit protected my body, but the burst went under my mask.” Ryan lifted his hand toward his face. “You can see for yourself I’m not as pretty as I used to be.”

  Ryan hadn’t lost his sense of humor.

  “They had to dig a piece of metal out of my thigh. I’ve got staples from my knee to my groin. Broken arm, a few broken ribs.”

  “Christ, man.” Jared blew out in a huff.

  Ryan looked Mike in the eye. “They told me no one else was hurt. Is that true?”

  “Not seriously. A few bruises, a few scrapes. The new recruits tackled the scene like true firefighters doing their job. Good thing, since we needed every man.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  Mike and Jared looked at each other.

  “Come on guys. Don’t hold out on me. Anybody with half a brain would know that was a fucked-up disaster.”

  “Hooley is on the case,” Mike replied.

  Ryan gave a nod and Jared continued where Mike left off.

  “We’ve knocked this scenario between our heads over and over again. Every guy on our team has studied and dissected the events of that day. We came up with shit. Someone had to tamper with the training site. We just can’t figure out how.”

  “The place is taped off. No one is allowed back on site. If you ask me, the way things happened, the explosion was deliberate.” Mike shook his head. “I can’t believe any of our firefighters had anything to do with it.”

  “Me neither,” Jared added.

  Ryan rubbed a spot behind his ear. “I hate to think someone deliberately set out to kill one of us. But I’ve had plenty of time to go over it. Every guy on site was in full gear.” He zeroed in on Mike, then moved his gaze to Jared. “I don’t want to believe it either.”

  Mike couldn’t finish that disturbing train of thought. Until he had proof, he refused to acknowledge a firefighter may have intentionally devised that explosion.

  Before long, Jared and Mike left. As soon as Jared cranked the engine, he spoke.

  “You know, Mike. I have a few questions of my own.”

  “You thinking the same thing I am?”

  Jared pushed the call button on his steering wheel.”

  “Hola.”

  “Laredo. It’s me.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Mike and I just left Ryan’s place. We’re figuring to go back to the training site. You in?”

  “Hell yeah. I’ll call Coop.”

  ***

  In the distance, Mike followed the horizon where the mountains met a blue sky. Clouds so low, they swallowed a good portion of green making the tips look like archways winding to heaven. He loved the country. What he wouldn’t give for even a little corner of the Wimer land. He dreamed of a place like Shep’s. A big house, comfortable, with a window large enough to see the landscape of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Nothing was prettier than the forest green in the spring, the orange and gold leaves in the fall, or the snow-capped mountains along the Parkway in wintertime. The Wimer property ran in the opposite direction, toward the Shenandoah Mountain. It would be a perfect place for a stretch of land.

  As Jared sped down the road, a fresh country breeze whooshed through the open window.

  “There’s the turnoff,” Mike said, pointing to a side road.

  Two miles down the lane, another turn took them to the spot of the training site. Jared’s Dodge bumped along the rutted road.

  “Better back up, man. I think you missed one,” Cooper said.

  “Yeah, Jared. I’d like to keep my teeth from cracking together.”

  “Pussies.”

  Laredo flipped him the bird.

  As the truck crested a hill, Mike saw a big sign. Posted. Keep out. To the right of it was another one. This means you.

  Jared pulled next to the yellow tape, which sectioned off a huge chunk of land a good two hundred yards from the house. What was left of it, anyway.

  The guys climbed from the truck.

  “Damn. There’s shit everywhere,” Cooper said as he slammed his door.

  Laredo whistled through his teeth. “I don’t remember the house being in the trees.”

  “With everything going on that day, we all missed a lot.” Mike took in the debris still scattered about. Not only did the tape contain the strewn pieces of the house, but a perimeter had been set up enclosing fifty yards of nothing beyond the wreckage. He figured that was to keep anyone from getting too close.

  “Let’s go.” Jared held up a length of caution tape and motioned for the others to climb under.

  As Mike neared some burned lumber, the images of that day came rushing back. He saw Ryan flying through the air, heard roaring in his ears just before men shouted and scurried into action. There had been black all around, he couldn’t see ten feet in front of him. Flames, thunder, shadows, then outlines of men. Confusion racking his brain. Adrenaline kicking in when he needed to act.

  “You okay, Hoss?”

  He jerked his head. “I’m fine, pup. Worry about yourself.” He’d spoken sharper than he’d intended. But a man didn’t like to admit to weakness.

  “We all know we’re not supposed to be here, so don’t touch anything. If you do, use gloves.” Jared produced a bag of latex gloves.

  “Where the hell did you get those?”

  “Out of my ass. You want any or not?”

  Cooper shrugged. “Just saying, I didn’t see you get them out of the truck.”

  “None of us were paying attention to anything other than this mess.” Mike spoke to Cooper, trying to make up for his sharpness earlier. “If you see anything suspicious, call out. Just be careful.”

  “Come on, Hoss. We’re out of grade school.”

  The kid may have worn a devil-may-care grin, but he knew the ropes. Cooper wasn’t afraid of anything and he rushed head-first into any situation. Not without caution. He used his training and handled himself with expertise.

  The four divided and searched in different directions. Mike stepped over boards, split timber and thousands of pieces he could only assume were bits of the walls and flooring. He’d been on a few scenes where a house had exploded from a leak in a gas line. This scene resembled the same destruction. No ordinary flame or procedures of a controlled burn could do this damage. The only thing that could rip the guts out of a building and leave this kind of wreckage would be a gas line, some source of fuel, or a substance charge.

  Forty yards away, a mound of ruins lay where the house had been. From there to where Mike stood, fragments of wood, pipe, and glass were strewn across the ground. Bits of frames that had once been windows were the only recognizable items. Nothing was left of the walls or main structure. The old house
had more than likely existed of wood and not much more. Four by four posts and a few pillars were detectable—bits of a tin roof, everything else lay in shambles or hung in the trees.

  He made his way through the ruins. Singed wood everywhere—some black, some clear as though not burned at all. More evidence. The blast had shattered the structure and sent pieces soaring before it could catch fire.

  Again, Mike saw Ryan, airborne, jetting in slow motion. Black smoke swallowing his body. Mike shook his head to clear the image.

  He strode forward, moving a few pieces here and there with the toe of his boot. A far different scene than the one expected at the end of a training exercise. An answer needed to be found. An explanation, so this could never happen again.

  After an hour of drifting in and out of the tree line and poking through the rubble, Mike was ready to give up.

  “Hey! Over here!” Laredo stood at the section where Ryan had thrown the torch.

  “You find something?”

  “I’m not sure,” he answered Jared. “Look at that.”

  “What did you find?” Cooper hurried over and stopped next to Mike.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “Study this spot right here for a minute. It doesn’t look right.”

  Hell, there was nothing there. Mike studied the ground and the burnt cinder blocks.

  Wait a minute.

  “Something has been moved.” Jared took a step closer. “See here? Something was here and now it’s gone.”

  Laredo nodded his head. “Yep. That’s what I think.”

  “What do you figure it was?”

  “No idea. But all these boot prints were after the fire was put out. Look at this. It’s a different color. Heat got here but no flames.”

  “Hooley,” Mike said. “Hooley must have found whatever and took it for his investigation.”

  “That means he found something,” Jared said.

  “Something important,” Cooper agreed.

  “Which means this was no accident.”

  “We don’t know that,” Mike quickly interjected.

  “He took it. It’s essential.”

  “Maybe.”

  “There’s no maybe to it, Mike. You know that explosion was no accident.”

  “Calm down, Coop. We can’t play guessing games. That’s why we have investigators.”

  Cooper mumbled, but Mike couldn’t distinguish what he said. He wasn’t meant to hear anyway, so he ignored it.

  “The rest of you find anything?”

  “Not a damn thing,” Jared grumbled.

  “It took us an hour to find this, so we might as well leave.”

  Mike hated leaving empty handed. So did the rest of the team. What had he expected? To miraculously trip over evidence that a specialist might not discover?

  Chapter 12

  Cassie should settle down and concentrate on her lessons. That would be the sensible thing to do. But lately she’d been far from sensible. After a long day of working with active eight-year-olds, she was restless. Which had nothing at all to do with her students.

  Mike.

  She remembered the feel of his chest hair beneath her cheek. The way he smelled like a clean breeze and her own shampoo. The way he held her close and caressed her skin with amazing fingers, as if he couldn’t stop touching her. She lowered her head in a deep sigh and placed her hands on her scalp.

  If she could just get him out of her head she could finish her third-grade lesson plan. With her attention span this evening, it was a good thing she did not teach high school. There was no way she could focus on essays and difficult questions. Cassie could be tough when needed. A teacher had to be strong. If not, her elementary students would walk all over her.

  There were times when she wanted to be soft and feminine. And allow a strong, compelling man to take care of her. She looked around her living room, taking in the large empty space—full of furniture, but empty because she lived alone. Mike had filled the room with his overpowering presence. Without Mike’s company, the apartment appeared cold. The fireplace gave the impression of real flames and burning logs. She could turn on the heated lamp and live in the illusion of a warm and welcoming fire. But the temperature had nothing to do with the warmth she craved.

  His accepting manner, his demeanor, the way he looked at her with those bone melting eyes, she could lose herself in a fantasy of Mike’s affection and his welcoming arms. She could imagine them stretched out on her couch. His hand sliding up her thigh, sending delicious tingles—

  Enough.

  She rose from the table she used as a desk and arched her back, deciding if she was going to play make-believe, she would indulge herself with a glass of wine. Mike had taken center stage in her mind, so she might as well relax and enjoy the evening.

  On a teacher’s salary, she couldn’t splurge often, but she did have a few bottles of wine in her cupboard. A Bordeaux Dry White wine, a Merlot red grape wine, and a Ménage a Trois Silk Soft Red Blend 2015.

  Cassie remembered the first time she saw it. She’d been shopping with Tammy and they’d found a wine store with rare wines. They couldn’t afford anything in the place and were just browsing. Then she’d spotted the label. Tammy had nearly gotten them thrown out with her jokes and sniggering laughter, but Cassie had purchased a bottle, which had calmed the owner down rather quickly. If for no other reason, she’d bought the wine for proof it existed—she would have the name in print! And it was a great conversation piece.

  That’s the one she chose tonight. She poured a generous amount into a wine glass and inhaled the berry fragrance. Mmm. She wondered if this brand was supposed to beguile one into a night of passionate activity.

  A night like the one she’d had with Mike.

  She’d been perfectly content living alone in her apartment, her teaching job, her routine. Then the big firefighter had crossed her path and she’d found her perfect little world was no longer perfect. Even more disturbing, she discovered she liked this man disrupting her very ordinary life.

  His job was dangerous and he’d scared the life out of her the night of the accident. But that was Mike. Saving people was his life. She wondered what obstacles had shaped him and made him choose the career of a firefighter. She took a sip of wine and settled back into the cushions, thinking of Mike, naked, with only a towel to cover himself. Then a blanket and how quickly it had landed on the floor along with her own clothes. She took another sip and leaned her head on the back of the couch, feeling the tension dissolve at the back of her neck.

  In her first twenty-two years, her life had been filled with school, hard work and surviving her sister. Cassie loved children, so the decision to be a teacher had been an easy one. As for relationships, men were more interested in her physical assets than anything she might say and she had no desire for male contact just for the sake of having sex. She had hoped to find a man who would be comfortable with her. Someone who would share the day with her, not just the night. But she’d spent most of the last seven years alone and not actively looking.

  When she’d seen Mike, she hadn’t thought about any of those things. One look into his alluring eyes and her brain scrambled. One touch and she’d melted. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath, trying to recapture the scent of the man who filled her mind.

  Men had come on to her before and she’d given in, wishing for contentment, a connection, a bond she’d never found. But Mike had scattered her senses and knocked her world upside down. She hadn’t succumbed to him because of a dry spell. The choice of abstaining these past two years had been her own.

  So why did she lay awake at night, craving the touch of this one man? She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Now that she’d tasted bliss, she wanted him again, and again.

  ***

  Another sleepless night.

  Should he call her? Usually Mike dodged phone calls from women. Being on the initiating end was new to him. But Cassie had captured more than his interest.

  T
he woman was educated, a teacher. Of little kids. He could only imagine the stamina needed to put up with a dozen or more pint-sized balls of energy on full throttle. She must be a saint. Not to mention gorgeous. And had a body men fantasized about.

  Jesus. He gripped the coffee mug as he recalled the night he’d spent with her, visualizing naked limbs and plush curves and how much he’d like to see her again. The first step would be to call her. After losing the battle with his conscience, it only took a matter of minutes to bribe his buddy in the police department for Cassie’s number.

  Just as he reached into his pocket, his cell phone vibrated. He checked the screen.

  Laredo.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey, Mike. It’s my turn to cook.”

  “What are you fixing?”

  “That’s the thing. What are you in the mood for?”

  Loaded question. At the moment, he had his mind set on more of Cassie.

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “Thought I’d fix one of your favorite dishes.”

  It occurred to him that Laredo was up to something. “Again. Why?”

  Laredo laughed. “Can’t put anything past you. Thought maybe you’d like to go to the grocery store with me. It’s the best place to meet women.”

  Mike didn’t want to meet anyone other than Cassie.

  “I’ll pass,” Mike said with her image in his mind.

  “Well, thing is, I need a ride.”

  “What’s wrong with your truck?”

  “It’s due for inspection and tire rotation. I thought I’d leave it at the dealership for the afternoon. Can you pick me up at the Dodge place?”

  “Now I get it. You’re trying to bribe me with food.”

  “You’re a big man. I figured I’d appeal to your appetite.”

  Mike glanced at his watch. Nine fifteen. He still wanted to call Cassie. “What time?”

  “Noon. That gives us plenty of time to decide what we want. How about filet mignon?”

  His mouth watered. A little sizzle in the pan and a steak was perfect. Laredo made vegetables in the same spicy sauce he used to marinate the meat. Mike could almost taste it. Noon. That gave him plenty of time to work up the courage to contact Cassie.