Twenty-Nine
Luke
I ’m sitting next to Sam with my head on the table, exhausted from the day.
“Man, it’s been so busy today. Wasn’t it supposed to be slower in a smaller town?” He stretches his legs out in front of him and covers his eyes with his hat. “Are you going back to Am’s tonight?”
“Yeah, she hasn’t kicked me out yet.” I look at my watch again, not wanting to jinx it but hoping we don’t get another call. “I’m going to stop by the rental to grab more clothes and my whiteboard. These little fires popping up over the last couple of weeks are really making me wonder if they’re linked in some way.”
“You think we have a firebug in town? It might just be a bunch of punk-ass kids.” He moves his hat from his eyes to look at me.
“Maybe, but with the pattern, I’m leaning toward a firebug, and they’re figuring out what works for them.”
“Have you told the chief or the captain your thoughts?”
“Yeah, everything I’ve collected is sent off to the lab. It’s weird having leadership who believe you when you say something.”
“I feel that. I had some ideas for group training, and the captain was all over the ideas I had. It’s refreshing.”
Sam may be a fuck boy, but he’s a natural leader at the firehouse. I wouldn’t be shocked if he gets promoted to captain one day.
“Ain’t that the truth.”
My phone vibrates, and I grab it from my pocket.
Noah:
Just a heads-up, Pam let me know that Amelia ran into Brian at the store. It’s a small town, so that isn’t what worried her. It was the fact that he just stared at her as she was leaving that made her nervous.
“Awww, is Amelia counting down till you’re home? Waiting to see what you’ll make for dinner so she doesn’t have to cook?” Sam says to me in a singsong voice.
I flip him off. “No, it’s Noah telling me that he got a text from Pam saying that Am ran into Brian at the market, and he just stared at her from across the entrance. He wanted to let me know in case Am blew it off and didn’t tell me later.”
“I don’t like him. I didn’t realize how much he was bothering her. She and Pam never mentioned it before, but it can’t be all of a sudden that he’s pushing himself on her.”
I’m not shocked she wouldn’t have told him. Amelia is the type of person who doesn’t want to have to be a bother, even to those who care about her.
“From what she’s told me, he’s been pursuing her since she moved here. He just won’t take no for an answer. Plus, you know better than me that she won’t tell anyone unless he gets physical.”
His shoulder tense as he responds. “Don’t I fucking know it.”
One thing both of us hate is people who can’t take no for an answer but think that because they aren’t physically assaulting someone, it’s okay. I pull my phone out and shoot Am a message.
Me: Hey, sweetness. I was thinking of Mexican tonight for dinner. Thoughts?
Sweetness: If I ever say no to Mexican food, just off me.
What do you want? I’ll place the order if you pick it up.
Me: Order whatever, I’m not picky. Just make sure to order enough for lunch tomorrow
Unless you want me to make sandwiches or something
Sweetness: I hope you feel my eye roll. You don’t have to make or buy me lunch every day
Me: Yeah . . . but then I worry if you forget to eat.
So I’ll keep making the lunches.
Sweetness: You say that like I forget to eat all the time . . . it’s only some of the time.;) text me when you’re on your way home, and I’ll call it in
I stare at the phone, rereading her last message, and the joy that fills my chest that she called it home like it was ours brings a stupid-ass smile to my face.
“Does that say you make her lunch every day?” Sam says, looking over my shoulder.
I shrug at him. “Yeah, you know damn well she forgets to eat when she hyper-focuses, even without everything going on.” I look back up at him, and the look on his face is hard to read . . . Is he happy or shocked that I said that?
“Huh, normally I would say she’s an adult and has been taking care of herself for a long time. But I’ll accept this answer because she does forget most of the time with her ADHD. It was a worry I had when she announced she was moving so far away until Pam said she was moving with her.”
“Did you really think Pam would have let Amelia move without her?”
“No, not really. Those two are worse than twins, and they aren’t even related. Have you experienced their silent conversations? It is literally the fucking worst.”
“Maybe? How does one have a silent conversation?”
“They just look at each other and have a full-blown conversation without saying a single word. They’ll start laughing or get mad, and you have no idea what’s happening. It’s weird as fuck.”
I think for a second because I don’t think I’ve experienced this. “They might have done that in the Jeep when I was taking them home from the bar, or maybe they just do it around you because they don’t like you? Ouch, fucker,” I say, smiling as I rub the shoulder he punched.
“You jerks done in here, or do you wanna go home? The next shift just walked in,” Carter says as he walks by the dining area we’re sitting in.
I stand with a groan, feeling much older than I am, and roll my shoulders to release some of my tension. “We’re right behind you.”
“Someone’s eager to get to Amelia’s house to make some lunch,” Sam says.
“You make her lunch? I mean, are you trying to bribe her to let you stay?” Carter says, laughing.
“I don’t need lunch to make her want me to stay. That’s just the bonus,” I say with a smirk, and I’m pushed from behind.
“Gross. Still my sister, asshole,” Sam says while he fake gags.
I laugh as I grab my bag and walk toward the door. “Peace out, guys. I’m going home to my woman.”
I fire off a text to Am, letting her know I’m on my way to the rental to grab some stuff and will be on my way with dinner soon.
Forty minutes later, I’m pulling into the driveway and grabbing everything when I feel Penny nudge my leg. “Hey girl, did your mom let you out, or is she coming to help?”
“I’m coming to help.”
I look over my shoulder to see her walking up to me.
I love how natural she looks, her red hair piled high on her head with her glasses on and not a trace of makeup, just wearing leggings and a hoodie.
“Hey, sweetness, how was your day? Did everything go well with the professor who came down?”
She leans in to grab the food and gestures to the whiteboard. “What’s this for?”
“I want to use it to work through some things with the fires that have been happening more frequently around town.”
“Oh, makes sense.” She nods. “The visit with the professor went really well. The feedback and ideas she had were great. She suggested that the mediums might be breaking down faster than we thought, which might be causing a flux in numbers. She also took some samples of water to run at the full lab.”
I close the door with my foot, my overnight bag in hand and the whiteboard under my arm. “That’s good to hear though. You were excited to meet her, maybe this is a good connection to have.”
“Oh, for sure. She wants to have some of her students intern for credit with me, and she offered to have me come to the college and talk to the students interested in aqua- or hydroponics. I have a good feeling about her. She seemed really interested in helping.”
One of the many things I love about her is how passionate she is about not only her business but also how she wants to help others in the field, whether they’re veterans or students. She’ll never turn someone away if she can help it.
She opens the door, and we let Penny walk in ahead of us, and Amelia sets the food on the counter.
“Where can I put this?”
Without stopping to unpack the food, she says, “My office works. We can set one side up for you if you need it. Tell me more about the fires you’re helping investigate. Do you think it’s a group of kids just setting fires randomly? Is there an open investigation regarding the fires?”
I walk down the hall to the one door that’s always closed and open it. I take in the only room in the house I haven’t explored. She has an L-shaped desk off to the side with a couple of photos of her, Pam, and Sam, and one with her and a woman who looks just like her.
“You can just put it on the other side of the room. We can hang it up if it’s easier for you. I don’t spend a ton of time here,” she says as she walks down the hallway.
“Hey, is this your mom?” I ask her.
Sadness fills her eyes. “Yeah. It was right before senior year. We had just done my graduation pictures and were heading to lunch,” she says with a heaviness in her tone.
“You said she passed away, right?”