Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Finn
I’d forgotten the big announcement of the donation to the children’s oncology department was being made today.
Kiana gazed at me as she sat in her wheelchair. She’d been positioned between her father and the president of the hospital foundation. They’d tasked the girl to receive the check.
I worried about how she’d handle all the activity, but she thrived in a way I’d never seen.
Apparently being the center of attention was clearly her happy place—which surprised me.
I’d only ever spent time with her in her room and reading her fantasy dragon young-adult novels written by a local author.
I treasured those moments. For now, Kiana was smiling wider than any quiet moment we shared.
Maybe we need to get her out more often. Infection was always a risk when the kids went beyond their ward. With a KN-95 mask, though, she would be at least a bit protected.
“This is a wonderful day for our foundation and the children of Abbotsford and beyond who come here for treatment. This money will enable the purchase of the latest equipment and—” The president, a lovely woman named Catherine—continued on with her speech as I scanned the gathered crowd.
And spotted a familiar face.
Huh.
Ulysses is a reporter. This is a news story. Kids from Mission City come here for treatments as well. In fact, Kiana was from my hometown. She was lucky she only had to travel twenty minutes to get here. Her dad also worked in Abbotsford, so he came here every night after work.
The man looked exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes, more scruff than I’d seen him with for a while, and a mouth turned down—despite the huge check Kiana now gripped.
“I want to thank the generous donor.” Kiana beamed a radiant smile. “I’m lucky to have such great doctors, nurses, and support staff. Thanks to them, I’m going to beat my cancer.”
God, let that be true. She’d been diagnosed with a stage three hepatoblastoma a year ago and, with surgery and aggressive treatment, things were looking better.
She wasn’t in the clear yet, but slowly she was improving.
Soon, she’d be able to leave the hospital and continue treatment on an outpatient basis.
She looked forward to going back to school and seeing her friends. Please let her be okay.
Her father, Rhys, spoke next. Haltingly about how wonderful everyone had been. Although the words appeared rehearsed, his genuine appreciation couldn’t be faked. He was a man who, unlike his daughter apparently, didn’t enjoy the spotlight.
The audience applauded, Catherine took the check back from Kiana, and the group began to disband.
Ulysses approached Kiana.
I headed that way.
“—just a couple of words—” The reporter appeared on a mission.
“My daughter’s very tired.” Rhys—who appeared even more weary and wary.
Kiana gazed up at her father, then back at Ulysses. “Another time? I am kind of tired.”
The man looked ready to argue. Then he caught sight of me and his expression changed. To what, I couldn’t be certain, but he backed away and dug his wallet from his back pocket. “I would really love to sit down with you. Whatever time you can give me.”
Rhys snatched the card before Kiana could. “We’ll think about it. I need to see my daughter back to her room.”
Kiana appeared ready to argue. Then she clearly saw something in her father’s expression that had her reconsidering. “Thank you. Later?”
Ulysses nodded.
Father and daughter retreated toward the elevators that would take her back to the oncology department.
My one-night stand pivoted toward me. “What are you doing here?”
“I volunteer. Catherine asked me to appear today—to fill out the ranks. Since I was going to see Kiana anyway, this felt logical.” I could always visit another day, and her book would always be waiting.
The second in a trilogy—so much more material remained for me to read.
Of course she was more than capable of reading on her own.
To hear her say it, I was a better reader.
I didn’t know whether that was true or not, but sometimes she was too tired to hold her book.
I’d offered to buy an audio version, but she said she fell asleep too easily.
“Yeah, you’d said that. Just in the oncology department or…?”
“Pediatric oncology. Kids are impressed when I show up wearing my Mission City Fire Department T-shirt. Or, better, uniform.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“I save the uniform for a day when a kid is being discharged. We do a little ceremony—which is way more than you needed to know.”
“I’d like to hear more about—”
My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I snatched it and read quickly. “I have to go.”
He arched an eyebrow. “A fire?”
I nodded.
“You don’t look like you’re on duty.”
“This is a big one. They might need me.”
“But if you were out of the area—”
“Well, I’m not. Bye.” I strode toward the exit and was out of the hospital in a flash.
I hotfooted it to my truck and was out of the parking lot in a flash.
Of course I didn’t have lights and sirens—much as I wish I did.
As I headed north toward Mission City, I said the prayer I always did—that no one got hurt.
That no one got killed.
Once I was past all the stoplights and on the highway, I increased my speed. The gray day was getting darker. Might we get rain? Rain would be good. Well, crappy to run a fire in, but good for life in general. We needed rain.
As I crested the bridge and got my first good look of Mission City, I spotted the plume of thick, dark smoke.
Shit.
I exited the bridge and followed the road to the industrial part of town. A tire warehouse was on fire—which carried all kinds of horrible environmental issues along with just the putrid smell of burning rubber.
Unsurprisingly, I came across a roadblock. Car were being turned around by Seth Jacobs—an RCMP officer.
Optimistically, I waved.
He frowned. Then gestured for me to turn back.
I held up my hands in question.
He shook his head and pointed behind me.
So I turned my truck around and parked on the side of the road. I got out, locked the truck, and headed back toward Seth.
“No way, Finn. Unless you’re here on duty—”
“Jacobs, what the fuck? You know I might be able to help.”
“I don’t see turnout gear. I don’t see a mask.”
I pursed my lips.
He waved another car to turn around. “You’d think people would see the smoke and realize we’re not letting anyone through. What the hell?”
I turned in time to see a nice silver SUV parking behind my pickup.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to find Ulysses MacDonald getting out—but I was.
He must’ve been hard on my heels to have made it so quickly.
We’re both lucky we didn’t get speeding tickets.
The man headed my way with a look of determination—and a furrow in his brow.
Don’t think that’s super sexy. Don’t fall for his concerned act again. Don’t—
Yep, too late. All I could think about was how great of a lay he’d been all those months ago and how I liked the look of concern on his face.
Seth held up his hands. “No off-duty firefighters. No reporters. No questions. Just…move along.”
I cocked my head. This wasn’t like Seth. He was the easiest-going of all the Royal Canadian Mounted Police constables in town.
“Look.” I had to try.
Seth shook his head. “Not this time, Finn.”
“Okay.” I ran through this in my mind.
Giancarlo was working today anyway. I’d get a debrief from him. I could’ve just driven up the hill to the fire hall, but I resisted the urge. Something told me to stay here.
I ignored Ulysses and sauntered over to my truck. I yanked my phone out of my back pocket, leaned against the truck, and began scrolling.
“Hey!” Seth’s voice reached me easily.
I gazed up.
Ulyssess sauntered over and leaned indolently against my truck as well.
“I asked you guys to move on.”
“So give us a ticket.” I shrugged. In truth, this wasn’t like me. But I didn’t like being held back from a scene for no obvious reason.
“What he said.” Ulysses deep voice carried with vague humor.
“I’ll call Colton.” Seth’s voice carried more exasperation than menace.
“Go ahead. I’ll ask how Mallory’s doing.” I kept scrolling. Mallory was Colton’s younger sister. She’d been dating Darius lately—a local accountant—but, once upon a time, she’d been a bit of a hellion.
Ulysses moved closer. “There’s a story there.”
“Not one I’m sharing.”
“Are you going to tell me why the cop won’t let you through to the fire scene? Because I’d like a crack at it as well. I’ve got my photography equipment in the back of my SUV.”
“You’re not worried about it being stolen?”
“Under a tarp, vehicle alarm, and insured.” He inched closer. “There’ve been a lot of fires lately.”
“Long summer.”
“Structural fires? Am I missing the connection?”
I sighed. “I don’t pay attention to statistics.
” Why are you lying to him? Because he might write a story about something that’s vaguely bothering you?
Except none of the fires had been ruled arson.
Just a pile of anomalous fires that no one could explain.
And yeah, dry grass didn’t provide some kind of justification.
“Ah. There’s a story here.”
The acrid smoke was seeping into my pores, and the longer I stood here without a mask, the more crap I inhaled. “Hey, Seth?”
He glared.
“You should be wearing a mask.”
He waved me off.
Yeah, nearly as stubborn as me. Big surprise.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Ulysses gestured toward downtown Mission City.
“Like where?”
“A restaurant? You could answer some of my questions.”
That’ll never happen. Still, intriguing thoughts invaded my mind. I turned to face him. “What? You just want me to answer all your questions after you wouldn't even call me?”
His dark brown eyes widened. “Look—sorry about that. That was personal. And I admit I'm an ass. This is business.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Right—so I'm business, then?”
“Yes.” He held my gaze. Steady and strong. And I remembered the look in those eyes when he’d pinned me to the mattress—with both his body and his force of will and personality.
“You just want me to give you all the inside story without even buying me coffee?”
He blinked. “You want coffee?”
I nodded.
“Uh, why?”
“I thought informants got paid. You can buy me coffee.”
Ulysses arched an eyebrow. “Fine. Coffee.”
Did he say that through gritted teeth? I couldn’t be certain—but a good part of me took perverse pleasure in riling him up.
To what end, I wasn’t certain. “Great. Follow me.” Without waiting for a response, I opened the door to my truck and got in.
As he made his way to his SUV, I rolled down my window and waved at Seth.
He shook his head—likely in exasperation—as I turned my pickup and headed to my favorite diner.
Fifties was very much as the name implied—built and opened in the fifties with very few additions over the years. The diner was a staple of life in Mission City, and I freaking loved it. Giancarlo and I often came here after work. To decompress. To hang out. To shoot the shit.
So he could flirt with Sarabeth.
I pulled into the parking lot, cut the engine, then hopped out. I was shutting the door and arming the alarm as Ulysses pulled into the spot next to me.
Even this far away from the fire—and over the railway tracks—the acrid smell was strong.
After he joined me, I grinned. “Let’s go inside.”
He followed me into the diner.
I smiled as Sarabeth approached. She winced. “I’ve got several empty tables. Smell’s keeping people home.”
“Probably a good thing.” I gazed into the restaurant. “We’ll take the two-seater at the back.”
“Cool. Menus are on the table. Coffee?”
“You bet.” I gestured to Ulysses with my chin. “He’s with me.”
“I’ll take a coffee as well.” He offered Sarabeth a smile. “Lovely to see you again.”
“You too. I’ll get right on that.” She headed toward the coffee pot while I sauntered down the aisle to the last booth. I sat facing the dining area—with my back against the wall.
Ulysses hesitated for a moment before sliding in across from me.
I grinned. “You know, I've changed my mind. I want dinner.” I grabbed the menu and made a show of opening it—even though I already knew what I wanted.
“You mean like a date?” Again with the arched eyebrow.
“No—a date is personal. You said business. I'm just business. You can buy me a steak.” I flipped to the dinner part of the menu.
Fifties was open twenty-four hours a day.
Three hundred and sixty-five days a year.
I’d spent a few holidays in here when Mom was working.
And since the diner was open all the time, most of the menu items were available all the time.
My favorite was the pancakes—almost as good as Mom’s. But today, I wanted to make a point.
“Business.” Ulysses repeated the word slowly—almost like he was testing it out. “You’re going to share?”
I shrugged. “Sure. Oh look, here comes Sarabeth with our coffees. Try to smile.” I winked.
He growled.
Sarabeth brought our coffees and then proceeded to take our orders.