by Morgan Blaze
She frowned. “I’ll try. But really, it looks like there isn’t much to do around here. Besides cow tipping.”
“Is that really a thing?”
“Apparently,” she said. “Sandy, or possibly Andrea, has assured me that the cows like it. Unless they’re bulls.”
Teddy laughed. “Try not to tip any bulls, then,” he said. “I think they’re the ones with horns.”
“Oh, it’s much easier to tell from the back.”
He laughed harder, and she cracked a smile. “Let me know what you find out,” he said. “But take your time. In fact, maybe you should try out that Jacuzzi before you get to work.”
“Hey. How did you know about the Jacuzzi?”
“The fire marshal’s office is footing the bill. For that rate, they’d better have one,” he said. “Talk to you later, Win.”
“All right. Bye, Teddy.”
She disconnected, slid the phone in her pocket and went for her bag. There was no sense waiting—might as well get things started now, and maybe she could relax or whatever later. She had brought a book or two along.
The file on the Covendale FD was surprisingly thick. Reports they’d received from the insurance company included allegations of inflated cost claims for accident cleanups and unbalanced spending compared to intake—in other words, they were bringing in far more money than they were using for business expenses.
It was her job to find out where that money was going, and why.
Winter placed the files in her briefcase and headed out, deliberately not thinking of ocean-blue eyes and incredible sex on the beach. She’d have to thank Teddy later for making her not think of that again.
* * * *
Adam knocked on the door of the chief’s office and waited for the familiar, gruff, “Yeah, what?” before he opened it.
“You wanted to see me, Chief?”
“Actually, I wanted to see Marilyn Monroe. But I’ll settle for you.” Chief Mike Smallwood waved him in without looking up from the paper in front of him. More stacks of papers and file folders littered his desk. The fire station had a computerized system, but the chief didn’t trust it—and besides, they were obligated to keep hard copies of records for insurance purposes. “Got your requisition here,” he said, giving the paper a tap. “Sit down.”
Adam sighed as he dropped into the seat in front of the chief’s desk. He knew what was coming, but he’d still had to try. “Let me guess,” he said. “It’s not in the budget.”
“Bingo.”
“Chief, we’ve got to replace that ladder.”
Mike finally looked at him. “You know we can’t.”
“It’s flat-out dangerous,” Adam said. “We can’t keep fixing it—we need a new one. Hell, we should just replace Engine Two completely.” He leaned forward and pointed at the report he’d submitted. “Didn’t you read that? Luke almost fell two stories. He could’ve been hurt, or killed.”
The chief snorted. “Luke Aldridge could fall off a sidewalk and kill himself. Why is he on the ladder? I thought you were putting Goddard up.”
“You know I won’t do that.”
“He’s a good firefighter.”
“And a horrible person.” Ethan Goddard wasn’t interested in being part of the team—and his cronies, Vermont Ward and Kade Whitney, weren’t much better. Ethan was smart, strong…and also vain and competitive. And until he improved his attitude, Adam refused to put another man’s life in his hands. “Look, you put me in charge of this stuff,” he said to the chief. “It’s my decision, and I already made it.”
Mike groaned. “You gave the promotion to Aldridge, didn’t you?”
“He has potential.”
“Goddard’s going to shit a brick.” The chief shook his head. “Well, I guess that’s your funeral. Sorry about the ladder.”
Adam’s jaw firmed. “Sorry isn’t going to keep our guys safe out there,” he said. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“I’m telling you, we don’t have the budget to replace it!” The chief pounded the desk in frustration. “I’ve been over and over this crap, and I just can’t squeeze out the money. If there was any way…” He sighed. “Rhodes, you know about Ben and Valley Ridge. Think I wanted to do that? He’s a good man, and it hurts like hell letting him go.”
“Yeah, I know.” The Covendale-Valley Ridge partnership allowed for a unique situation, in that they were one of the few small towns with paid professional emergency services, rather than volunteers. At least, they had been until the budget started drying up. A few weeks ago, Chief Smallwood had made the painful decision to close the Valley Ridge station—which meant an early and unwanted retirement for Ben Schaeffer, the station director.
Mike and Ben went way back. The whole thing hit Adam hard, too—and not just because it increased the strain on his crew, since Covendale was now handling all services for both towns. Ben Schaeffer was an old family friend, nearly a second father to him. And he knew that for Ben, the job was everything.
“I’m sorry, Adam.” The chief’s frustration slid into real regret. “We just can’t—”
A knock at the office door interrupted, and the chief shot a narrow-eyed glance toward it. “What?” he barked.
The door opened, and Dominic Shepherd stuck his head in. He looked at Adam first. The grin on his best friend’s face was suspicious at best. “Sorry to interrupt the party,” Dom said. “There seems to be a fire marshal here.”
“Goddamn it, that’s just what we need now,” Mike said. “Why are they here?”
Dom shrugged. “Don’t know. But they want the man in charge.”
Chief Smallwood’s expression twisted briefly, and then he sighed. “Rhodes, can you go deal with this guy?” he said. “I want go over this again. Maybe I missed something, somewhere. You’re right—we have to replace that ladder.”
“Er. I would, but I’m not in charge.”
“Sure you are.” The chief smirked at him. “Congratulations, you’ve just been promoted. You’re the department liaison.”
“The what?”
“I made it up. But it sounds good, doesn’t it?” He actually smiled for a moment. “Just get rid of the guy, so I can find your new ladder.”
“You got it, Chief.”
Dom held the door open as Adam walked out, and then closed it behind him. “Hey, congrats on the promotion, bro,” he said. “Gonna buy me a new bike with your big, fat raise, right?”
“Oh, yeah. We’ll split the raise. I’ll take jack, and you can have squat.” Adam smirked as they headed for the stairs leading to the ground floor. He was already lieutenant and squad leader. Why not department liaison too—whatever the hell that was. “So, any idea what’s up with this fire marshal guy?”
Dom’s suspicious grin came back. “First of all, it’s not a guy,” he said. “She’s pretty hot for one of those dry insurance-type chicks. And she’s not wearing a ring.”
“So?”
“Hey, man. You haven’t been on a date since the Dark Ages.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Are you nuts? She’s a fire marshal.”
“And?” Dom nudged him. “Look, all I’m saying is that if you’re not going to hit on her, then I will. But you might change your mind when you see her, so I’ll give you first crack.”
“Wow. What a pal.”
“That’s me. The best damned friend in the universe.”
Adam grinned in spite of himself as they reached the ground floor, and Dom led the way to the small visitor’s lobby off the engine bay. “You know what?” he said. “I’m onto you now. I bet she’s seventy years old, with alligator skin and one of those raspy, pack-a-day for fifty years voices. Am I getting warm?”
“Man, if you were any colder, you’d be in Antarctica.” Dom waggled his eyebrows and pulled the door open. “Here we are, ma’am,” he called inside. “I brought you the man in charge.”
Adam shot him a look, stepped through—and the polite smile on his face froze as the fire marshal st
ood and stared at him. Mai Tais and ocean waves and sand on his skin flashed through his mind in rapid procession, and he thought of the brief, probably meaningless note he’d nevertheless kept all this time. Thanks for a great night.
He was looking at the woman who’d written it.
Chapter 2
For the first time in her life, Winter thought she might faint.
It was him. Ocean eyes, sex on the beach. The man she was never going to see again, who she’d met so far from home, was the chief of the Covendale Fire Department. He’d been half an hour away from her all this time. And to meet him again like this, under business circumstances—no. This could not be happening.
For what it was worth, he looked just as shocked as she felt. But that didn’t make her feel any better.
“Um, hello?” The firefighter who’d shown her inside—Don? No, he’d said Dom—stared slowly from one to the other. “You two both look like you’ve seen a ghost. Did I miss something?”
Winter forced herself to recover her professionalism. “Not at all,” she said briskly. “I’m with the county fire marshal’s office. You must be Chief…?”
“No, I’m not the chief.” The man’s shocked expression vanished, and suddenly he was grinning at her—which was even more unnerving. “Looks like I’ll be getting your name after all,” he said.
Okay, she definitely didn’t like that grin. Or his smug attitude. “No, you won’t,” she said. “If you’re not the chief, then I’m not dealing with you. I asked to speak to the man in charge.”
“That’s him,” Dom put in helpfully, with a barely contained laugh. “He’s the department liaison.”
“Well, I need to talk to the chief.”
“Chief’s busy.” The man she’d slept with advanced toward her, and it was all she could do not to step back. Oh, God, he was even more gorgeous than she remembered. She didn’t think that was possible. “I’m authorized to deal with all official matters,” he said, stopping to hold out a hand. “Adam Rhodes.”
She was surprised to find that hearing his name had the opposite effect of what she’d expected. It made him a person instead of a dream, the subject of an investigation rather than the embodiment of the most amazing night she’d ever had. But the relief that flooded her failed to comfort.
She looked at the hand coldly. No way would she touch him again—not after what happened the first time. “Winter Solomon,” she finally said. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Rhodes.”
“Winter.” He whispered the name like a caress, and to her horror, she felt her face flush with heat. “Your name is Winter? Of all the names I—”
“It’s Miss Solomon,” she said curtly.
He blinked once, and at last lowered his hand. His expression was completely blank. “Of course. Miss Solomon,” he said. “What can we do for you?”
“You can show me your insurance claims and expense documentation,” she said, throwing a pointed look at the other firefighter. It was hard enough dealing with this man at all, let alone with an audience. “I’ll need to review all of your files for the past five years. And then I may have a few questions for you—and your chief, if he can be bothered to make an appearance.”
Fleeting anger passed through the man’s features, but he composed himself quickly enough. “All right,” he said. “I’ll show you to the records room, and you can have all the files you want. But I have a question for you.”
“It had better be a professional question, Mr. Rhodes,” she said.
He recoiled a bit. “Completely professional,” he said. “What, exactly, are you investigating?”
She couldn’t help stiffening. “You have a right to review the accusations—”
“Accusations? Of what?”
“It’s all in the documentation,” she said. “If you have a machine, I’ll make copies for you.”
Adam stood completely silent and still, except for a single jaw twitch. At last he said, “Fine. Follow me, Miss Solomon.”
“Hey,” Dom said softly, stepping forward to stand beside the incensed firefighter. “You want me to come with you, bro?”
“No. We’ll be fine.” Adam’s posture relaxed as he addressed Dom, and he clasped the man’s shoulder briefly. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he said. “I’ll fill you in later, okay?”
“Sure. You just watch yourself.” He sent Winter a distrustful glance and left the room.
Adam stared at her for a moment, and then turned toward a different door from the one Dom had used. “Come on,” he said, opening the door onto a flight of metal stairs. “And just so you know, I’ll want to see your documentation before I show you mine.”
“That’s fine, Mr. Rhodes.”
She followed him without a word. His reaction wasn’t unusual—no one enjoyed being investigated, and it was perfectly common to encounter defensive subjects in her line of work. Unfortunately, the most defensive ones also tended to be guilty of something.
Maybe this investigation wouldn’t be as straightforward as she’d thought.
* * * *
Adam couldn’t believe this cold, professional robot of a person was the same woman who’d all but thrown herself at him on the beach last summer. It was as if she’d spent every ounce of passion she owned that night—and now she didn’t feel a thing.
They were in the records room. The only other computer at the station besides the one in the chief’s office was in here, but hardly anyone used it. Mostly, there were lots of file cabinets and hard copy records, some of them dating back almost to the town’s founding.
She’d copied the files from her briefcase, but he hadn’t looked at them yet. Instead he pointed out the cabinets with the documentation she wanted, and then stood back and watched her pull and stack folders on the table with neat, almost brutal efficiency.
She hadn’t even looked at him since they entered the room.
Right now she was standing at the copier, programming it for multiple pages. He cleared his throat, and she pushed a button and glanced at him like he was a fly she wanted to swat. “Listen,” he said. “Are we going to talk about—”
“No.” She flung the curt word like a dagger.
“Why not?”
She gave him a cool stare as the copier began spitting out paper. “Because as far as I’m concerned, Mr. Rhodes, it never happened.”
“I see.” He spoke through clenched teeth, aware his anger was mostly directed at himself but unable to hold it back. He should’ve just forgotten about her, like she’d obviously wanted him to. “And you don’t think this thing that never happened might cloud your professional judgment?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Must be nice,” he said.
Her brow went up. “What?”
“To be able to sleep with someone, and then flush it completely from your system and move on with your life.”
She blinked once. “I hardly think that’s appropriate!”
He hid a smile at her shocked tone and slight blush. So the woman he’d met was still in there somewhere, after all. He decided to play it her way—for now. “You’re right,” he said, taking the folders she’d finished with and returning them to the file cabinets. “Let’s talk business. Are you going to tell me what you’re investigating, or do I have to guess that, too?”
Her color rose for an instant, but she took a slow breath and made the blush disappear. “It’s all right there in the documentation I gave you.”
“Maybe it is. But I want to hear it from you.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Why?”
“Just humor me.”
She offered an exasperated sigh. “The insurance company that underwrites your department suspects several incidents of inflated cost claims and imbalanced intake-spending figures.”
It was Adam’s turn to blink. “You wanna repeat that in English?”
“They think you’re robbing them. Taking in a lot more money than you’re spending.”
His gut twisted, and he told himself
that her saying you didn’t specifically mean him. Still, the idea that they’d think anyone here would do something like that pissed him off. If the fire department was raking in the insurance money, they’d have equipment that actually worked. And they wouldn’t have had to close the Valley Ridge station. “Well, we’re not,” he said. “Robbing them, I mean.”
Winter Solomon shook her head slightly and almost smiled. “Normally I wouldn’t mention this to a subject, but—”
“Subject?” he said.
“Yes. You’re the subject of an investigation—well, your department is.” Once again, she sounded like a robot, but this time she’d at least retained a friendly edge. “Anyway, I don’t think you are robbing them.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” This time her smile was faint but recognizable. “Usually it’s a matter of missing line items or transposed numbers. An honest mistake. I just have to go through these records to find whatever doesn’t match up, and then the investigation will be closed.”
“So you’re not going to throw us all in jail.”
“That would be highly unlikely, Mr. Rhodes.”
He grinned out of pure relief. “In that case, will you do me a favor?”
“What kind of favor?”
“It’s an easy one,” he said. “Call me Adam.”
“All right…Adam.”
He noticed she didn’t invite him to call her Winter.
“Well, I guess I’ll let you do your thing,” he said, disappointed to sense that she’d stopped thawing and was all business again. But he couldn’t help one last attempt to reach her. “Listen, how long are you in town?”
“Mr. Rhodes—”
“Adam,” he said. “And I swear, I’m not trying to hit on you.”
Her shoulders slumped just a touch. “Just for the night,” she said. “As long as there are no complications with this, I’ll be headed out in the morning.”
“Well, would you like to come to a party tonight?”
