by Kathryn Shay
ALL I NEED
Rockford Fire Department
Book 5
KATHRYN SHAY
Copyright 2018 Kathryn Shay
Cover art by Rogenna Brewer
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About The Author
Chapter 1
* * *
Flames reach out their hungry fingers, sparking the timber, blackening the beams. The fire singes the wood. Then it waits nearby until the matter disintegrates. Not completely fed yet, it creeps along the roofline, leaving a path of searing embers that burst into their finest glory. Ah, sated now, the blaze waits for firefighters to come in and douse it. Who will win this time?
* * *
Joe Santori, in his new position as lieutenant at Truck 8, watched from the doorway while his crew completed salvage and overhaul at the scene of their early morning call. After the fire had been put out by the engine company, his group had gone in and rescued the residents. Then they had this unpleasant task: tearing out boards to check for hidden flames, spraying fire extinguishers on iffy sections, ripping down more plywood and plaster. The stink of charred wood clung to every nook and cranny left behind.
“Good job, guys.” Joe always encouraged them in the filthy, tedious task. But this time, he decided he’d be better off helping and walked back to the truck to grab a halligan. When he turned away from the rig, a car swerved into the driveway of the patio home.
In the huge generator-powered spotlight, Joe saw the door open and a mass of blond hair poke out, followed by pink fuzzy shoes—no, wait—slippers. The woman stood, and Joe was taken aback by all the pink: the slippers and pajama bottoms beneath a pink raincoat. Who on earth would be here at five a.m. looking like she just rolled out of bed?
After noticing him, she shut the door and made her way to the truck. An angel face surrounded by long blond locks peered up at him. “Could you help me?”
“I hope so.” Up close, she seemed familiar. “Do I know you?”
“That doesn’t matter.” A loud bang came from inside the house and she recoiled from him. “D-did you get the people who live here out?”
Thinking of his own grandparents, Joe nodded. “Yes. They suffered smoke inhalation and are on their way to Memorial Hospital in an ambulance.”
“I got a call from a neighbor. My grandmother and grandfather were inside.” Her voice cracked on the last word and her lips trembled.
Damned if Joe didn’t feel his protective genes surge to attention.
She glanced over at the structure. “The house burned.”
Joe estimated it would be uninhabitable. But he didn’t tell the clearly upset granddaughter that. “I could call the hospital. Check on your grandparents for you. But it’ll take a while.”
“No, I’ll go there now.” Before he could say more, she turned and headed back to her car. When she got there, she leaned against the door before she opened it. Joe was afraid she was about to collapse.
Hell, he couldn’t let her drive. They’d be called to the scene of her accident. He cupped his hands, yelled, “Wait,” and started over.
When he reached her, she looked up at him with glazed eyes. “I just need a minute.”
“You need more than that.” What to do now? “Can you call someone? You’re in no condition to drive.”
She straightened. Folded her arms across her chest, but lifted her chin. “My father’s out of town.”
“A friend maybe?”
“I don’t want to call people in the middle of the night. If you think I shouldn’t drive, I’ll order an Uber.” She took out her cell, but it slipped from her shaky fingers, hit the pavement and disappeared under the car.
“Here, let me.” Dropping to his knees, Joe rummaged around the blacktop and felt metal. He secured the phone and stood. But didn’t hand it to her. In this condition, anybody could do anything he wanted to her. “No Uber. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He ignored the statement and any fight it might lead to. “Let me tell my men and get out of my turnout gear.”
“Are you sure? I’m settling down.”
Could have fooled him. A stiff wind would blow her over. “Yeah, my shift’s done so it’s no problem.”
As he strode to the house, he knew guys would razz the hell out of him about rescuing a damsel in distress. But he’d grown up a lot in these last few years and could handle their teasing. Better that than this fragile woman smashing her car into a guardrail.
* * *
Finally he was home. Chase Talbot closed the door and leaned against it. The night had been grueling. Three fires in Rockford had demanded the chief take over Incident Command, and he was glad to be finished. The house was unusually empty as his sister Melinda, who was a godsend in his life since his son died, had taken his grandkids for a sleepover. He craved the solitude after the last twelve hours.
First, right around supper time, a fire had broken out at a daycare in the business’s kitchen. Miraculously, his teams had gotten all the kids out and only a couple of little ones had minor injuries.
At the second, a firefighter had been downed by a fallen timber, and Chase had gone to the hospital until he was needed at a church fire that destroyed most of that holy place.
Tossing his navy fire department windbreaker on the chair in the foyer, he started upstairs to catch a few z’s when his cell rang. Damn it, he thought when he saw the caller ID. He had a mind to ignore her, but couldn’t. He dropped down on the fourth step, punched accept and said tightly, “Chief Talbot.”
“Chief, this is Vanessa Jordan.”
“Madam Mayor.” His shoulders stiffened in anticipation of something bad. “I thought you were out of town at a conference.” She let the heads of departments she supervised know her travel schedule. Chase liked when she left Rockford because she couldn’t bother him.
“I’m in California but...” She cut off as if she was... emotional? Nah, the proverbial ice water ran in this woman’s veins.
And was the bane of his existence.
Still... “Is something wrong?”
“My parents...their house caught fire. A neighbor called me and told me they were taken away in an ambulance. She said the house is in bad condition, but I’m more concerned about them. I called the hospital but couldn’t get any information. And I can’t get home for hours.” She took in a big breath. “Chief, could you go to Memorial and check the situation out, then let me know how they are?”
She had a daughter, he’d accidentally found out, but didn’t bring up the fact that she’d called him and not the girl. And why the hell wouldn’t the
nurse give the information to the daughter of the victims? None of his business. He was going to have to do this. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll head over there now.” The Southern gentleman in him made him lower his voice. “Are you all right?”
“No, of course not. Please, Chase. Get back to me as soon as you can.”
Since she got elected two years ago, she’d rarely used his first name. Or vice versa.
“I will, Vanessa. When I have any news.”
“T-thank you.”
Forsaking the warm bed he’d been hoping to fall into, Chase left the house, climbed into his fire department Jeep, and headed to the hospital. On the way, he tried not to think of all the shit the woman who’d sent him on this early morning errand had given him during the time she’d been the mayor, but the run-ins kept battering at him.
* * *
18 months ago
“Welcome everyone. Thank you for coming tonight, especially our new participants, Fire Chief Chase Talbot and Police Chief Dane Corrigan.”
Greetings and “Glad to have you” were shouted out.
Chase watched the woman who’d made the introduction. He and Corrigan had been invited to attend Town Council Meetings a few months after she’d taken over. But it was clear this was more of a command performance.
“First off,” Vanessa Jordan continued, “we should go over the minutes and old business from our last meeting. Chiefs, you’ll get the gist of what we’ve been doing.” She turned to her chief of staff. “Abigail, could you do that please?”
While they did their reviews, Chase’s mind wandered. He didn’t want to be here, as he hated politics, but he knew the fire department was, well, under fire, pun intended. Corrigan said the same about America’s Finest. He and the police chief were buddies. Chase had helped his son, who’d joined the fire department, out of a sticky mess, and Dane was grateful to him. They’d had a few beers together and were in tune now. When he caught Dane’s gaze, the man rolled his eyes. Both knew they had to get along with her somehow.
“Now, on to new business.” Ms. Jordan leaned forward. He noticed the manly suit she wore: stark navy blue with a white blouse. No jewelry. She probably had on orthopedic shoes. “But before I do, I want to remind you that I was elected on a platform with two main objectives: fiscal responsibility and assistance for the elderly.”
Mumbles. Everybody knew fiscal responsibility meant budget cuts. Chase paid close attention now. These wouldn’t be good for him and the members of the RFD. Or any department.
“Nathan Peterson’s here to answer any questions when I’m done.”
The budget director nodded.
“First, I’m going to cut every division ten percent across the board.”
“What?” the police chief asked.
“You’re kidding?” from the head of transportation.
The chair of the education department flushed. “I can’t make that kind of cut to our schools.”
Others chimed in with similar objections.
She waited patiently and didn’t seem to be flustered by the complaints that went around the table. At the end, she said, “If you’re finished, this isn’t a request.” The mayor had final authority over fiscal issues. “All of you can institute money-saving measures.” She picked up a light blue binder. “In here are the ways I suggest your individual departments do that.”
Larry Cook from Parks and Recreation frowned. “We don’t have a copy.”
“I know. You’ll get it to study after I discuss what’s in here. I’ll start with the fire and police departments.”
She turned to Chase. Again, her eyes were flat. “Chief Talbot, your contract with the union was already negotiated—and much too lucrative on your end, I believe, but we’ll tackle that next time around. Now we’ll implement the minimization of overtime, buying new equipment and training costs at the fire academy.”
Holy hell! “That dog won’t hunt, Madam Mayor. If you cut those things, we’ll be in a bind. When people go on furloughs, overtime for other firefighters has to happen. If you—”
She held up her hand. “That’s why I’m instituting brownouts.” She scanned the group. “For those of you who don’t know, brownouts are when different station houses, or just one truck at a station, is taken out of service for a tour to save money and stretch resources.”
“And to make up for budget shortfalls!” He’d interrupt her if he had to, like she had him. Now, he was royally pissed.
“No. This is a budget cut.”
“Do you know what they call brownouts around most fire departments?”
Her gaze darkened. She didn’t like to be challenged so openly. “I’m sure you’ll tell us.”
“Firehouse roulette.” He scanned the others. “Which means you gamble that the houses or shifts you close down that day won’t have a fire or medical emergency in the section of the city they cover.”
“Other companies will go to them.”
“There won’t be a firehouse within four minutes of every location in Rockford. Our department is set up as it is for a reason.”
“I happen to think that’s too tight a perimeter, and research across the country agrees. But in any case, we can consider not shutting down completely. Many houses have two vehicles. We can brownout one.”
“That sounds logical.” This from Dawson Billings, a well-known businessman in town, who was also on the council.
Chase’s temper rose. “And which would you rather have if there’s a fire at one of your offices, Mr. Billings? Firefighters without water, or firefighters without rescue equipment?”
Billings didn’t respond.
Chase tried to control his tone. “Most of you probably don’t even know that different vehicles have different capabilities. An engine or pumper carries water to the scene. A truck carries the ladder and all sorts of extra equipment. And a squad truck is expert at certain types of rescue.”
“Sorry not to back you, Chief.” The mayor again. “But I know for a fact that, if there’s a call to a fire or accident, most of the time more than one house—outside of its section—is sent.”
“Right. So there are enough firefighters to do the job.”
Billings wasn’t done. “If firefighters from say six minutes away can get to a fire with water to help a truck that’s already there, I don’t see the difference.”
Chase stood. Braced his hands on the table. “Two minutes more is a long time in firefighting. In the recent fires out west, the blaze ate up a football-field sized property in one second.”
Billings held his gaze.
On a roll now, Chase faced the mayor who had also risen. They squared off. “In your research on brownouts, I’m sure you found instances of people dying in fires that have the closest truck browned out.”
“I don’t have those statistics.”
“If you’d given me fair warning of what was going to happen tonight, I could have gotten them for you.”
“I’ll look at whatever you send over,” she said, picking up a blue binder, “but my research shows the benefits of brownouts.”
“Not to citizens.”
“Less taxes are good for citizens.”
“Not when they cut emergency services.”
A local minister raised his hand. “May I suggest something? That you two calm down so we can discuss this rationally. You’re arguing is not helping.”
The mayor drew in a breath. “I agree, Reverend Lawson.” She sat. “This discussion is ended.”
Chase wanted to storm out. But that wouldn’t be in the best interests of the department. For one thing, he had to try to convince the mayor not to take this dangerous measure. Damn, he rued the day she’d entered his life!
* * *
Present Day
In the hospital waiting area, Holly told herself to be strong, that she was alone in this and needed to pull through. But, dear Lord in heaven, she couldn’t lose her grandparents. They’d been the mainstay of her life for the last five years. They couldn’t die
. They couldn’t!
“You okay, Ms. Michaels?” The firefighter who’d driven her over here—Joe Santori—stood before her, holding out some clothes.
“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes. “What are those?”
“I bummed some scrubs from the stock room. I thought you might be more comfortable out of your p.j.s.”
She pulled the pink robe tighter around her.
“Don’t worry.” The corners of his mouth turned up. “You won’t have to go commando.”
“What does that mean?”
"No underwear. There’s a T-shirt, and adult disposables with them.”
Feeling herself blush, she nodded. “Thanks.” She stood. “I’ll go change.”
When she came back out, she was feeling better. The light blue top was accompanied by a long sleeve T-shirt to go under it. The matching bottoms had a drawstring so they stayed up.
When she sat back down, Joe took the chair across from her.
“No word from the burn unit?” she asked.
“None.”
Grandma and Grandpa had been taken into the ER, then transported to a special unit that dealt with smoke inhalation and other fire-related injuries. She glanced at the clock over the nurse’s station. “It’s been an hour since they got here.”
“Not so long in hospital time.” He picked up a cup from the table. “I got you coffee. I didn’t know how you took it.”
“Black.”
It had been dark in the car, so this was the first chance Holly had to see him up close. He wore navy pants and a fire department T-shirt, but still had on the rubber boots. His face bore traces of dirt, and his helmet had dampened his hair. His eyes were darker than sin and he had that wonderful olive skin of an Italian male. She recognized him. “You asked if you knew me earlier.”
“Yeah. Do I?”
“Now that I’m saner, and gotten a good look at you, the answer is yes. I bought the condo next to yours four months ago and we’ve seen each other a few times coming and going.”
“Oh, yeah. Another firefighter lived there but she moved in with her boyfriend.”
