Chapter 14 Carmen
CARMEN
Carmen stood in front of the narrow mirror in the locker area and made herself stop fussing.
She adjusted the hem of her standard EMT shirt for the third time, smoothed down the fabric over her ribs, and then stared at her own reflection as if it might explain why her hands would not stay still.
The shirt fit the way it always did. Her hair was tied back the way it always was on shift.
Still, her pulse kept doing an irritating little hop.
She told herself it was ridiculous. She was not a teenager being called to the principal’s office, and she was not walking into her first date with a boy who might have made her knees go weak if he looked at her for longer than a second.
She was a grown woman who had delivered more bad news to families than she cared to count, who had worked chaos and blood and sirens in Miami, and who did not get nervous about a conversation in an office.
Especially not with Chief Zane Evans.
He had left a note on her desk that morning. It was short, neatly written, and irritatingly polite, as if he had never once been called Chief Hatchet behind his back.
Captain Grant, please come see me first thing when you get in. We need to discuss recruitment options and staffing coverage.
It was already nearly noon.
Carmen had meant to go the moment she walked through the doors, but she was stopped twice in the hallway, then dragged into a conversation with a volunteer who needed reassurance, and then she missed a call.
After that, Lieutenant Johnson, who had seniority today, rolled out with two inexperienced EMTs before Carmen could even ask where they were headed.
Now the station felt too quiet for the middle of the day, and quiet had a way of making the mind wander into places that were not helpful.
Carmen exhaled slowly, squared her shoulders, and walked down the corridor toward Willa’s office.
Willa’s office, which Zane was currently using.
That still sat strangely with Carmen, because it made it feel as though someone had walked into Willa’s life and casually moved the furniture around.
Willa had not complained, of course. Willa rarely did, unless the complaint came in the form of calm steel and an order everyone obeyed without realizing they were obeying it.
Carmen stopped at the office door and knocked.
“Come in.” A deep voice rolled through the wood.
The sound of it did something annoying to her heartbeat, and Carmen nearly rolled her eyes at herself.
She opened the door and stepped inside.
Zane looked up from a file spread across the desk.
Sunlight spilled in through the window behind him, catching on the edges of his hair and throwing the room into a strange mix of brightness and shadow.
He smiled when he saw her, and it was not the smug, superior smile she had always expected from him, but something warmer.
Carmen ignored the flicker in her chest and forced herself into professional mode.
“You left me a note,” she said, keeping her tone even as she closed the door behind her.
“I did. Thank you for coming,” Zane replied. He gestured toward the chair across from him. “Please take a seat.”
Carmen sat, placing her hands neatly in her lap so she would not fidget again. Zane studied her for a moment, and the look on his face was not critical. It was attentive, like a man who had learned to read exhaustion and stress in other people because he had carried too much of it himself.
“You’re early,” he noted. “You weren’t due until three.”
“I usually come in early,” Carmen replied. “It keeps things from sliding off the rails.”
Zane’s mouth curved, as if he understood that far too well.
“Then you’ll want to know,” he said, tapping the file on the desk, “that two fire rigs and the ambulance were called out to a fire and accident just outside Sandpiper Shores.”
Carmen’s brows shot up. The guilt hit immediately, sharp and hot.
“I should’ve been here sooner,” she blurted, already imagining some young EMT freezing in panic while Lieutenant Johnson tried to juggle a chaotic scene with too little help.
“Lieutenant Johnson is with them and is very competent,” Zane continued. “Captain Parker is out there, too.”
“I know how good my team is,” Carmen said with a tight smile. “If there are two fire rigs out, they might need more people.”
“The fire is not that big,” Zane replied. “From what I was told, it’s contained, but it needed a response.”
The words should have settled Carmen, but in this town, fires did not feel small anymore, and none of them felt ordinary.
Zane seemed to read the thought on her face because his expression tightened briefly before he smoothed it away.
“We’ll get a full report when they’re back,” he said. “In the meantime, you’re here, and I did want to speak with you.”
Carmen straightened slightly. “About recruiting.”
“Yes.” Zane picked up a file folder from the side of the desk and slid it toward her. “Here are some names, some potential candidates. There’s also a contact you can call if none of these jump out at you, and they can provide more options based on what you need.”
Carmen took the file. It was neatly organized, which was both helpful and irritating because she liked being the one who organized things.
“Thank you,” she said, opening it briefly to glance at the list. There were names, phone numbers, previous roles, and certifications. It was thorough enough to have made her feel relieved.
Zane leaned back slightly, resting his forearms on the desk. “Did June get home safely last night?”
Carmen blinked at the question, surprised by it and surprised by how naturally she found herself answering.
“Yes,” she said. “She got back about an hour after we did.”
“Did she tell you why she rushed out?” Zane asked.
“Not a word,” Carmen admitted.
Zane didn’t comment immediately. He watched Carmen with the same attentive look, as if he were weighing the safest way to respond.
Carmen’s phone rang before he could speak.
She frowned. The screen showed the emergency services number.
“Hello,” Carmen answered, already standing. “This is Captain Grant.”
Zane’s phone began ringing at almost the same time.
Carmen moved toward the door so he could take his call in privacy.
She stepped into the corridor, the office door still open behind her, and listened to the voice on the other end of the line.
“Captain Grant,” the man said. His tone was professional and brisk.
“Sorry to bother you. We know the ambulance is out, but Captain Parker told us to call you directly. They’re wrapping up at the last call, but there’s been a car accident on Hollow Pond Road, between Gainesville and Sandpiper Shores.
She asked if you could get to it until they arrive. ”
Carmen’s stomach tightened.
Hollow Pond Road wasn’t close, and it wasn’t an easy stretch of road, especially for a crash.
“I don’t have transport,” she said quickly, already looking down the corridor as if she might spot a vehicle appearing out of thin air.
The office door behind her opened wider, and Zane stepped out with his phone lowered, his face set.
Carmen’s relief hit fast.
“Oh,” she said into the receiver, “wait. I think I have transport. I’m on my way.”
“Thank you,” the man replied. “Be careful. The caller said the vehicle is off the road and down an embankment.”
Carmen ended the call and looked at Zane. “I’ve just been called about an accident…”
“On Hollow Point Road?” Zane finished.
“Yes,” Carmen confirmed, frowning, realizing Zane had gotten a similar call. “Did you get the same call?”
“Grab what you need,” Zane said. “We’ll use my SUV, it’s kitted out.”
Carmen nodded, her heart thudding, and she moved quickly, working with Zane as they gathered what they might need at the crash site.
She collected what she might need from the supply area. She grabbed gloves, gauze, bandages, a trauma kit, a cervical collar, and a portable oxygen bottle. She did not know what she would find down that embankment, but she would rather have too much than too little.
Zane met her at the bay, keys in hand.
His Fire Chief SUV sat ready, lights mounted, equipment in the back, and Carmen noticed, not for the first time, that the man did not do anything halfway. Even his vehicle looked like it had been designed to drag people back from the edge of disaster.
They climbed in, and Zane pulled out with the lights on and the siren cutting through the air.
Carmen braced one hand against the dashboard and forced herself to focus on the road, on her breathing, on the way the SUV moved with controlled speed.
“I guess you know this area?” Carmen asked him. “I know of the place, but I haven’t been there.”
“Yes, I do,” Zane replied. His eyes stayed on the road, scanning ahead, checking mirrors, checking everything. “Hollow Pond itself is pretty large and is very deep. Then there are the embankments that are extremely steep.”
“Oh, so this is going to be a breeze then,” Carmen muttered.
Zane’s mouth twitched. “Something like that.”
“Let’s hope the rest of the emergency services wrap up quickly on their current call and get to the pond as fast as possible,” Carmen replied, and she heard the edge in her own tone and did not bother to soften it.
They did not have time for niceties. A life or lives might be on the line, and the drive was already feeling too long.
When they finally turned onto the road leading toward Hollow Pond, Carmen’s nerves tightened. The trees pressed close to the road, shadows shifting in the sunlight, and the air felt heavier out here, as if the land held on to dampness and secrets.
Zane slowed slightly as they approached a bend, his eyes narrowing.
Then Carmen saw it, marks where a car looked like it had gone over the embankment.
“There!” Carmen said, pointing. “That looks like a car went over the side.”