Chapter 19 Zane
ZANE
Zane stayed at the edge of Hollow Pond Road long after the ambulance doors had shut and the siren had faded into the distance.
The air still carried that sharp tang that always hung around a wreck, a mix of churned earth, overheated metal, and adrenaline that refused to settle.
He watched the tow truck operator adjust the chains again, careful and deliberate now that the car was no longer a problem to solve but a piece of a problem.
The SUV winch line was still taut, holding the wreck at an angle that made Zane’s shoulder blades itch with the memory of how close it had been to sliding. It had taken both skill and luck, and Zane knew better than to pretend it was only one of those.
He was checking the last of it, scanning for anything he might have missed, when Carmen walked up beside him and held out a bottle of water. It was cold enough that moisture beaded on the plastic.
“Here,” Carmen said. “You need to hydrate.”
He took it and nodded his thanks. “Why didn’t you go with the ambulance?”
Carmen’s gaze followed the vehicle as it turned out of sight.
“There wasn’t space,” Carmen told him with a shrug. “And I didn’t think you needed to deal with the rest of this alone.”
The words were practical. The effect of them wasn’t.
Zane loosened the cap and took a slow drink, buying himself a second to keep his expression neutral.
“I’m nearly done here,” Zane told her, and forced his attention back onto the tow truck. “I wanted to make sure the car went where Holt asked it to go, and that nobody got clever and decided to tow it to the wrong place.”
“I can’t believe Dr. Vernon was attacked,” Carmen said, her voice low as she watched the car. “What is going on?”
“It’s worrying,” Zane agreed. He glanced at the road again, then at the pond below, and the image of the car teetering came back with uncomfortable clarity. “I think between Holt and Rad, they’ll figure it out, but they’ll need help. I’m going to offer whatever support I can.”
“I think they need all the help they can get right now,” Carmen agreed with him, and her eyes narrowed as she looked at the ground, at the embankment, at the absence of skid marks.
“We still don’t know who’s behind the accidents and the fires.
We don’t even know if it’s one person or different people, or…
” She stopped, then said it anyway. “Or if it’s the real person from ten years ago. ”
“We need Holt to brief everyone who this is affecting,” Zane said. “We can’t keep working off pieces and half-truths. That’s how mistakes happen, or people get hurt or worse.”
“I’ve told you and Willa what I know from June,” Carmen replied, and there was a faint edge there, a protective one. “She hasn’t told me anything else.”
“That’s exactly the problem,” Zane said. He spoke carefully, because he didn’t want it to sound like criticism of June. “I’m not saying she’s hiding things out of malice. I’m saying the gaps are dangerous.”
“I agree,” Carmen said quietly.
The tow operator lifted a hand in a signal, and Zane stepped closer to inspect the last tie-down.
The car was a mess of crushed roof and shattered glass, mud smeared along the doors, pond weeds clinging to the undercarriage like thin green fingers.
It looked almost theatrical in its destruction, and that alone unsettled him.
Whoever did this wanted a statement, not an accident.
When he stepped back, he found Carmen watching him, and he had to deliberately keep his eyes on the tow rig rather than her expression.
“Are you driving back with me?” he asked, and the question came out more casual than it felt when he moved back to stand beside her.
“If you don’t mind. I don’t have another ride.” Carmen glanced around. The fire rigs and the tow truck were getting ready to depart.
“Of course not,” Zane said quickly. He cleared his throat, then forced the tone back into something steadier. “If you’re ready, we can go as soon as they pull out.”
“I am,” Carmen replied.
They waited in silence while the tow truck rolled forward, slow and careful, and then it pulled away down the road, the wrecked car behind it like a grim shadow.
Zane watched until it disappeared, then turned toward his SUV.
“I guess that’s our cue to leave,” Zane said, and held the passenger door open for her.
Carmen climbed in, and for a second, Zane’s mind offered him a ridiculous thought that it looked right. Not because he’d planned it, not because he’d asked for it, just because it did.
He shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side before he could overthink it.
The drive back to Sandpiper Shores was uneventful in the way that always felt suspicious after a day like this.
The sky was bright, the roads were clear, and the world behaved as if nothing terrible had happened.
Zane kept his attention on the road and let his thoughts keep moving in the background, still rearranging the scene at Hollow Pond into something that made sense.
He could feel Carmen beside him, quiet but present, and it made the vehicle feel less like a mobile office and more like a small pocket of calm.
When they reached the station, he parked, turned the engine off, and sat for a moment as if he were checking for something on the dashboard, when in truth he was checking for something in himself.
He wasn’t used to this. Not anymore. It was getting to him more than it used to. The danger, destruction, injuries, and death. For the first time since he’d made the decision, retirement was looking pretty good.
Zane and Carmen climbed out of his SUV and walked toward the building. The station was busy, phones ringing, people moving in purposeful patterns, the kind of controlled chaos that never stopped for personal moments.
When they reached Carmen’s office door, Zane paused.
A thought had been sitting in his chest since she’d handed him the water bottle, and it had only grown heavier the longer he’d ignored it.
He cleared his throat, then hesitated.
Carmen looked back at him. “Is everything okay?” she asked, brows knitting slightly.
Zane exhaled through his nose. “I’ve been a widower for a long time,” he said, and the words came out more honest than he’d intended. “So I’m not good at this.”
Carmen’s expression changed, just a flicker, but he saw it. “Not good at what?” she asked, her voice careful.
“At asking someone out,” Zane said. His hand lifted and fell again, as if he’d almost reached for his hair and then stopped himself. “I know this isn’t great timing. I know everything is tense right now, and it’s out of the blue, and…”
Carmen watched him, her eyes steady, and for a second, Zane felt as if the whole building had gone quiet.
He decided to stop circling.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Zane asked her, the words flying out of his mouth a little too fast. “I mean, I’d like it to, but it doesn’t have to be a date. It could be a friends dinner.”
For a breath, Carmen didn’t respond, and Zane felt the start of something cold in his stomach.
Then she said, “No,” and his heart dropped so fast it almost made him dizzy.
But Carmen immediately held up her hands.
“No, I meant… I meant yes, I’d love to have dinner with you,” she said, and a nervous laugh escaped her.
“When I said no, I meant, no it doesn’t have to be a friends dinner. I’d like it to be a date.”
Zane blinked once, then twice, because his brain had to catch up with his relief. Before he could respond, Carmen’s lips pressed together in a half-smile, half-grimace.
“I’m so sorry, that sounded ridiculous,” Carmen admitted. “I’m sorry. I, too, haven’t dated since my husband passed, so it’s like a first time being asked out.”
“I know.” Zane laughed. “I kind of felt the same way trying to ask you out.”
They stared at each other for a second, both caught between embarrassment and something warmer, and then Carmen laughed again, this time more freely. Zane found himself smiling despite the fact that his pulse was still racing too hard.
“Yes, that was incredibly awkward for both of us,” Carmen said, shaking her head.
“It kind of felt like I was…” Zane started.
“Back in high school?” Ace’s voice came from the kitchen across the hall from Carmen’s office. Zane and Carmen turned to see Ace leaning casually against the doorway. “And let me assure you both how incredibly awkward that was to watch,” he teased them.
“Why are you listening to private conversations?” Carmen’s eyes narrowed in on him accusingly.
“I was in the kitchen,” Ace defended himself. “I came out, and then Chief here looked like he was about to give a formal speech, and you looked like you were deciding whether to run or puke, so I figured I’d let it play out.”
Zane felt heat creep up the back of his neck, mostly because Ace wasn’t wrong.
Ace stepped closer and dropped his voice, though it still carried as he dipped his head to speak to Carmen.
“For the record,” Ace said to Carmen, “the chief is a good man. Rough around the edges sometimes, but a good man, and trust me, there aren’t many like him left in this world.”
“Thank you, Ace,” Carmen said to him with a soft laugh.
“Now I did notice that the two of you still need to figure the details of your date out,” Ace continued, and then he pulled his phone out.
“So, here’s a modern-day dating tip for both of you.
Use the message facility on your phones.
That way, nobody in the station gets an accidental broadcast of your plans and lets HR know you’re dating before you have time to tell them. ”
“Thank you for the advice, Ace,” Carmen told him. “But I’m sure we can rely on your discretion with this?”
“Of course. My lips are sealed.” Ace made a show of zipping up his lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. Then his eyes sparkled with mischief. “While I don’t spread rumors, I can’t say the same for the people I tell.”