Chapter 7
Ethan froze inside the repurposed firehouse.
What the hell? This wasn’t the same building he’d stepped into a week ago. Where was the peeling paint and dirty floors?
He frowned at the clean, dark oak floorboards and fresh white walls. There was even furniture and a remodeled kitchen. A large table centered the main room. Couches sat to the side. A row of laptops waited on a table along the back wall. And was that a drone?
Connor stepped over to the whiteboard. “Someone got shit done.”
“How the hell did they do it all in a week?” Seven days. It had been seven days since he’d first stepped foot inside this old fire station—the same day he’d last seen Maggie at Bloom—and this wasn’t the same building. That place had barely been habitable.
He stepped over to the window, glancing out into the forest. They were in a remote part of Deep River right next to the water. Only a thin line of trees separated them from the river.
The firehouse was one of the original buildings from back when the town was founded. Back then, they’d filled tankers directly from the stream in preparation for fires.
He stepped into the long hall.
Every room was finished. One held medical kits and thermal blankets. There was a locker room. Hell, even a few rooms with beds.
At the end he found the old apparatus bay where the engines had once been held, now filled with equipment. Backpacks. Helmets. Harnesses and rope.
When he got back to the common area, all the guys were there.
Ryan blew out a breath. “This donor has money to burn. This would have cost a mint to get done so quickly.”
“Either that, or they’ve been planning it for a while,” Ethan said quietly.
Joel opened the fridge. “They stocked everywhere but here?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “You ever think of anything but your stomach?”
“Sure. I’ve been thinking plenty of that sassy café owner at Bloom. Had a nice little chat yesterday, where she called me a sexist asshat because I told her that lifting heavy boxes was a man’s job. Well, she didn’t say it to me, she muttered it loud enough for me to hear. Probably intentional.”
Connor frowned at him. “Do you know anything about women?”
“I was trying to be a gentleman by insinuating that I would lift them.” Joel rubbed his jaw. “Didn’t go my way.”
“Oh yes, women fall at men’s feet for that,” Ethan said, gaze skirting around the room again. Even the locks on the doors were new.
The front door opened and Joe Ferris stepped in, a wide smile on his face as he spread out his arms. “Hey, hey. How’re the new headquarters?”
“Good.” Ryan crossed his arms. “A bit confused how it was done so fast though.”
“We had everything ready to go the second you said yes.”
Ethan shot a glance at the row of laptops, radios, and a drone against the back wall. “It would have cost quite a bit. I didn’t know anyone in Deep River had this kind of money.”
Ferris grinned. “That’s the thing about small towns—they give the illusion that everyone knows everything when really, everyone has secrets.”
Ethan frowned. Of course people had secrets. But being a secret millionaire, or whatever this kind of money was, and funding a SAR team, was a whole new level of secret.
“Did you see the watches?” Ferris asked, pointing to the wall of technological devices. “They have GPS.” Then he looked at the fridge and cringed. “Sorry about that. We would have gotten some food and drinks but didn’t know what you guys liked.”
“Everything,” Joel said, looking far more disappointed than the situation called for. “But it’s all good. I’ve become somewhat of an expert at filling fridges in my thirty-three years.”
Ethan shook his head.
Over the next few hours, Ryan created schedules for their week, Connor and Joel inventoried equipment, and Zac went through the medical supplies, while Ethan fiddled with the laptop and tech gadgets.
He’d always been good with technology. That had been useful over the last year, when he’d had no idea what he wanted to do after the military.
He’d worked as a PI, finding information for people.
Which was fine—it had paid him a decent wage and he’d been good at it—but this, working with his team, was better.
It was midafternoon when his phone buzzed with a text. He smiled when he saw the name. Jalen had been their intelligence specialist for years in the navy, and she’d taught Ethan a lot about finding information when needed.
Jay: You forget I exist or something?
Ethan: You texted me three times last week. How could I forget?
Jay: Exactly…I text you.
Ethan cringed. She was right. He hadn’t gotten back to her messages.
Ethan: Sorry, just helping the guys get settled.
Jay: Yeah yeah.
Ethan: Shouldn’t you be busy with some confidential, high-risk mission?
Jay: Even if I was, I’d make the time for you and your dad jokes.
Connor dropped into the seat beside him. “That Jay?”
“How’d you know?”
“Because other than us, she’s the only person you message.”
Ethan would be offended if it wasn’t true. “Yeah, it’s her. How’s the equipment looking?”
“Great.” He tapped his fingers on the desk and looked around the room. “This feels good. Right.”
“I feel it too, brother. Like we’re supposed to be here, working this SAR team. Together.”
Connor dipped his head. “Yeah. Exactly.”