3. Zoe
After getting dischargedfrom the hospital and sleeping for about eight hours, it was time for me to go to the fire station and officially kick off my investigation. Despite my eagerness to dive into my work and keep my mind occupied, I was slow to get out of bed the next day. My head still spun from the intensity of last night, and pain crackled throughout my side and upper back from my fall.
Some slow breathing and a Tylenol were good enough to get me moving, and once I got kicked off, my focus shifted to the investigation. I wasn’t a detective or anything, but I prided myself on paying close attention to details and being able to weasel my way into places and situations that a lot of civilians would have trouble pulling off. When it came to journalism, boundaries had to be pushed to reach the truth.
And there was something weird behind all of these fires. Arson wasn’t supposed to happen at such an accelerated rate like this, but the police hadn’t experienced any luck. The firefighters were kept busy fighting the fires. What was the harm in a journalist poking around to find the truth?
Everyone in this town wanted these fires to end before more people got hurt, and I already associated enough death and tragedy with Rockview as it was.
My fingers drummed against the top of my steering wheel impatiently as I waited at the red light just before the fire station. I could see the large, brick building with red doors from where I was, my heart rate immediately spiking. I was finally about to begin!
I would’ve started a little earlier if last night hadn’t been so crazy. Not only did I pass out, but I also saw a ghost from my past. Matty Grady dated my best friend back in high school, so we’d spent a decent amount of time together since he was with Rachel a lot.
Nothing was wrong with that besides the fact that I kind of had a secret crush on Matty at the time. Of course, I didn’t mention it or act on it because I didn’t want to hurt Rachel’s feelings or sever our friendship, but I remembered the sharp ache in my chest when Matty walked right past me to ask Rachel to homecoming. From there on, their relationship bloomed, and I stood on the sidelines, feeling happy for them, sad for myself, and guilty about my conflicting emotions all at the same time.
Out of all the guys at school, why did he have to be the one that both my best friend and I liked?
Then again, I wasn’t the only one who had a crush on him, and I couldn’t blame any of us poor souls. He had that carefree, warm soul that attracted girls like bees to honey, and he didn’t lack charm at all. Just a smile could have someone wrapped around his finger.
And he almost had me wound up pretty tightly last night, if I was being honest. There were fleeting moments when my hardened resolve started to wear away. When he reached out and touched me. When he smiled so brightly that it illuminated the room. Damn it. No wonder Rachel was enamored with him until they broke up during senior year.
There was no bad blood. The spark fizzled, and Rachel was planning to go to college out of state. I even attended her wedding a few months ago, so she still found true love outside of the charming Matty Grady. Meanwhile, I’d had a few flings that always left me feeling even more alone than before.
I refused to let my world revolve around one person. I was my own person outside of a relationship. Between my job, my family troubles, and my personal goals for happiness and health, I spent a lot of time trying to improve myself and heal myself. Those guys weren’t willing to share me with… myself. They didn’t want to wait for me to bloom, so they left me to wilt.
Love just wasn’t on the radar for me yet.
So, no matter how attractive Matty was, I hadn’t come to town to get caught up in burning desires. I came here to put out fires and make Rockview safe again.
But I did expect to be a little distracted, especially since Gabe and Garrett Wallace were also firefighters. It wasn’t like I hated them or anything, but they’d made things tough for me in high school. We were at odds for nearly our entire high school career.
When I was a junior, I led a group called “The Radiant Rebels” with my closest friends, Rachel and Daisy, and fought against certain rules and traditional high school norms that were outdated and ridiculous. I wanted to change the dress code rules, add healthier options for school lunch, and have the library be open for thirty minutes before the first bell so that students actually had time to browse and pick out books to read.
You know, totally valid suggestions, given the common complaints I’d heard around the school.
Truthfully, the group wouldn’t have even become a thing without the encouragement of my mom, though. As an opinionated teenager, I made it known what issues I had with my school. Instead of merely complaining, my mom told me to actually do something about my complaints.
To take action and dig deeper like she did as a criminal behavior researcher. Criminal behavior was far from surface level, which pushed her to poke at boundaries and go above and beyond to get what she wanted. She fostered such a determined spirit in me.
But whenever there was change, there was opposition. That came in the form of the Wallace brothers and some other popular boys in their own club called “The Eclat Crew”. That club had no purpose other than to make themselves more popular and to distract people from my efforts with their charm, popularity, and seamless camaraderie. It sucked that they could flash their bright smiles and flirt their way around the school to get what they wanted like more vending machines and more privileges for athletes.
Whether they intended to or not, they became my enemies.
When they tried to saunter up to me and use their charm on me to get me to relax, I quickly shut them down. That added a spark to our rivalry that lasted all the way to senior year. They made sure that they were front and center, overshadowing me and telling people to ignore me.
Just the thought of all that drama made me grind my teeth, but that was all years ago. As Matty had said, we had all grown up. So, what were the brothers like now?
I would find out soon.
I parked to the side of the fire station and got out of my white Honda Civic, a soft breeze blowing my hair behind my shoulders. My eyes shifted down as I smoothed down the dusty rose sweater with a white collar that I chose to wear this morning. Paired with a patterned skirt and ankle boots, it made up one of many business-casual outfits that I packed for this trip.
I wasn’t a fan of monotone colors or typical blazers with buttoned shirts. I liked a little bit of flair, and I added the same attitude to my writing.
As I approached the front of the fire station, I could see the fire truck parked inside through the large, open entrance. At least I came at the right time and not when they were out on a call. I strode through the front, hearing thuds from behind the truck.
“Hello?” I called out, hoping that Matty was around. He was my connection, and if anyone was going to help me convince the fire chief to give me information and to let me stay close throughout the investigation, it would be him.
The thuds stopped, and a tall, dark-haired man with a matching beard stepped out from behind the fire truck. With his broad muscles and slightly grown out hair, he had a rugged look to him that made my stomach twist. Woah.
“Can I help you?” he asked as he wiped his hands off with a shop rag.
My eyes shifted to the tribal tattoo winding up his forearm, my words refusing to come out at first. In my defense, he caught me off guard.
“I’m Zoe Collins,” I said as I extended my hand out for a handshake. “I’m a journalist at The Blue Ridge Times.”
“Cohen,” he replied as he shook my hand, seeming a bit stiff once I introduced myself. “Blue Ridge? Like North Carolina?”
I smiled and nodded, the warmth of his grip lingering when our hands broke apart.
“That’s the one,” I told him, having to tilt my head back a little to meet his ocean blue eyes. There was just something about a man with pretty eyes.
Cohen crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at me in a suspicious manner.
“What’s a journalist from North Carolina doing here?” he questioned me.
Uh oh. I had heard that tone quite a few times before from people who were wary of journalists or reporters. They didn’t like being questioned or having anyone in their business, which I understood, but I was here for the good of the community. I wasn’t trying to dig out the skeletons in his closet.
And I wasn’t looking to drag mine out either.
“I’m here to write a story about the arson case. I’m hoping to work closely with you guys to uncover what’s really going on and make Rockview safe again,” I explained with a friendly expression, hoping to relax him. “Oh, and I’m from here.”
Cohen didn’t lighten up in the slightest. In fact, his eyes narrowed slightly as he fixed me with a stern look.
“We don’t really have time to accommodate a journalist,” he stated. “We’re in and out fighting these fires and getting people out of harm’s way.”
There it was. The resistance that I was so used to facing. He didn’t want me to get in the way and slow down their progress, but he would have the opposite problem. They would have to keep up with me because I was determined to get to the bottom of this.
“You don’t have to accommodate me. I want to work with you,” I replied. “If I’m going to properly investigate these fires and figure out who’s behind them, I need to be up close and personal. Where you guys are.”
Cohen’s jaw tensed, and I could tell that he wasn’t in the mood to argue. That was just too bad because I’d driven all the way here for this.
“I think the police are better suited to figuring this out than a journalist,” he commented, his tone starting to sharpen.
“How have they been doing so far?” I asked as I tilted my head at him.
Air puffed out of his nose sharply.
“They’re doing their best,” he said with some grit in his voice.
“I know they are, but this is a small town. We only have so many resources, and I’m here and ready to be a helpful resource,” I told him before gesturing behind me. “Do you think I like hearing about the houses of old friends burning down or my favorite ice cream shop being torched? I don’t.”
Cohen lifted a hand, trying to wind our conversation down to a close.
“Which I understand, but you can wait until after the fires are out to investigate like everyone else,” he replied as he started to turn away.
“Nothing has worked!” I told him, raising my voice to get his attention.
Cohen paused and turned back to me.
“Doesn’t mean they eventually won’t. Give it some time,” he replied.
I stepped closer to him with a look of pure defiance on my face.
“The longer we wait, the more will be destroyed,” I bit out. “Are you willing to risk that just because you don’t want to work with me?”
Cohen shook his head at me, looking as aggravated as he sounded.
“It’s not a good idea,” he said. “I’m sure my fire chief will agree with me.”
Now, we were talking. I hoped that he wasn’t the fire chief because it would take a miracle to gain his trust. Maybe the fire chief would be easier to sway.
“Then, I want to talk to him,” I replied as I plastered a cheery smile on my face.
Cohen tightened his jaw, but he turned and stalked off, leading me away from the apparatus bay to take me to his boss.
If I was going to get what I wanted, I had to turn up the heat. So much was at stake, and I didn’t plan to be stopped any time soon.