Trial by Fire (Southern Heat Book 4) Read online

  Trial by Fire

  Southern Heat Book 4

  Jamie Garrett

  Wild Owl Press

  Contents

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  1. Seth

  2. Maya

  3. Seth

  4. Maya

  5. Seth

  6. Maya

  7. Maya

  8. Seth

  9. Maya

  10. Seth

  11. Maya

  12. Seth

  13. Maya

  14. Seth

  15. Seth

  16. Maya

  17. Seth

  18. Seth

  19. Maya

  20. Maya

  21. Maya

  22. Seth

  23. Seth

  24. Maya

  25. Seth

  26. Maya

  27. Maya

  28. Seth

  29. Maya

  30. Seth

  31. Maya

  32. Seth

  33. Maya

  Also by Jamie Garrett

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Jamie Garrett

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. All requests should be forwarded to [email protected].

  Connect with me on Facebook: http://facebook.com/JamieGarrettBooks

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  Cover design by The Final Wrap.

  Editing by Jennifer Harshman, Harshman Services.

  1

  Seth

  He was tired, sweaty, and fucking dirty. The fire had been a real bastard. They’d been called out in the middle of the night to an old house on Oak. It had looked to be half falling apart on the outside, and that was before the fire got to it. The inside hadn’t been much better.

  The neighbors had called it in when they’d noticed the flames and hadn’t been able to find the old guy who lived there anywhere out on the street. Problem was, no one knew if he was still inside, either, but their chief wasn’t taking any chances.

  Whether it was the old space heater with a frayed cord, or the pile of newspaper stacked in every available corner, the place had been a death trap just waiting for the first spark. Mason, their company captain, had yelled out the orders. Shane manned the aerial, swinging it around to the second-story window while Connor and Jeremy, the other rookie, went around back to set up a vent. The rest of the company, Seth included, had entered the building through the rapidly deteriorating front door as Engine 46 set the hoses.

  The guy had been a hoarder, with paper and plastic crap lying all over the floor. Seth was instantly glad for his oxygen tank. He hated to think what toxic gases were already in the air as all that stuff burned. Even through the mask, the air had been hot, cloying.

  The smoke was thick as he’d climbed the stairs, fire jumping from the walls to the furnishings. He could hear the others starting the water behind him and Seth said a quick prayer that the structure would hold long enough for him to be able to search it all. That was something that Mason had drilled into them from the first hour of his first shift. Seth didn’t know the full story from Mason’s past, but he knew enough to know that they searched every room of every fire, until the Battalion Chief called them out. He followed Mason’s instructions without question. No one was dying on his watch because he’d gotten sloppy.

  He’d finally found the guy, wedged in the corner of his bed and unconscious—from the smoke or fumes, Seth couldn’t tell. He’d grabbed onto the man’s shirt and dragged him to the stairs, hefting him down and praying the entire way that the floor didn’t give way beneath him.

  The fire had rolled over his head, roaring in his ears, as he’d carried the elderly resident down the stairs, dodging yet more random crap. Mason and Matt had stood guard at the front door, hosing the ceiling behind him and keeping the flames at bay long enough for them to get the hell out. Even with their efforts, less than a minute after he’d stormed through the front door, the entire room had flashed over. He’d felt the heat on his back even as he’d forced his legs to keep moving. Damn. Chief Stone was going to kill Seth himself if he needed a new turnout jacket again already. The last one hadn’t been his fault. Well, not exactly. He should have known better than to listen to Jeremy’s bright ideas on how to get back at the guys for the newbie hazing. He hoped he’d been clear enough of the heat that this one came out unscathed.

  Shane had grabbed the man from his shoulder, pulling him onto a stretcher and fitting an oxygen mask. Seth pulled off his own mask and took a deep breath, grabbing a bottle of water and emptying it over his head. The air outside was cool despite the raging inferno behind him, and it had felt glorious on his skin and in his lungs. He’d turned and leaned against the truck, catching his breath as 46 set the water directly on the fire now that they were clear.

  Just another day on the job.

  What wasn’t typical was the woman standing in Chief’s office. Alex was sitting at his desk, a frown on his face, as he watched the woman. She’d been waiting outside the firehouse as they’d pulled up, and she refused to talk to anyone other than Stone. She’d been in his office for a good half hour already, and it didn’t look like their conversation was going to be over anytime soon. Not if the agitation he could sense practically rolling off the woman was any indication.

  Seth shot a look at Mason, who shrugged. Okay, so their captain had no idea who she was, either. She alternated between perching on the end of the chair and pacing back and forth through the room, occasionally waving a hand in the chief’s direction. He couldn’t hear much more than a muffled word here or there, but from the look on her face, she wasn’t happy with the chief’s answers.

  She was slim, but tall, possibly only a few inches shorter than Seth. Long brown hair was swept over one shoulder and secured behind her ear. Despite her height, there was something about her that was incredibly delicate. Her hands moved constantly, her eyes bright as she started pacing again. She turned away from the captain, facing the window, as she let out a breath. Her eyes closed for a brief moment, as if gathering up her strength, and when they opened again, she made direct eye contact with Seth. Damn. She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Her cheeks flushed and she stared at him, eyes narrowing. He quickly looked away. That lasted all of ten seconds, but by the time he looked her way again, she’d turned again and had resumed her apparent interrogation of the chief.

  Someone shoved a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. Surprisingly, it looked edible. Must not be Matt’s turn to cook. He grabbed a piece of toast from the center of the table and shoved it in his mouth along with a forkful of egg. They still had a couple of hours on shift and Seth had learned early to eat fast or not at all some days.

  He was halfway through his second piece of bacon when Mason pushed away from the table and walked swiftly to the chief’s closed door. Knocking, he looked at the chief with raised eyebrows and was waved inside.

  “Wonder what that’s all about.” Matt said, dropping into the chair next to Set
h. The milk sloshed over the edge of his bowl of sugary cereal. How on earth he ate that crap and continued to meet the physical standards for the job, Seth had no idea. He’d take a plate of protein any day over that junk.

  “No idea,” Seth said. “But she seems pretty worked up about whatever it is.” Maybe she had a bone to pick with the chief over a recent fire. No, if that were it he’d recognize her, wouldn’t he? He couldn’t remember anyone looking like that at their last few call outs—and with one look at her face, Seth was certain he’d never forget it. They often met people on the worst day of their lives, but even if he’d seen her streaked with soot or in the darkness of a fire at night, he’d remember her.

  “Hey, Knucklehead.” Matt nudged him with his elbow, shaking Seth out of his head. “Mason wants you.”

  Seth looked up, almost choking on his final bite of bacon. Mason stood at the entrance to the chief’s office, crooking a finger toward him. What the hell did he want? Seth was just a rookie. He and Jeremy never made any decision at a call that would be worth being mad over. He stood, wiping his hands down the front of his already-dirty uniform, and walked into the chief’s office. “Seth Kelly, meet Maya Graves,” the chief said. Seth leaned forward and shook her offered hand. He looked over at Mason. If anyone wanted to clue him in anytime soon, that’d be just great.

  2

  Maya

  This was the guy who was going to help her? Maya hitched an eyebrow, giving him a once-over. He was tall, with short blond hair and a lean strength about him. A touch of stubble brushed his cheeks, but the rest of his face was smooth, unlined. Sure, he was cute, but really? She hadn’t driven for over a day to be passed off to the nearest free hand. This was the most important thing she’d ever done in her life, and so far she’d been met with resistance or outright hostility at every turn. Was her latest idea on how to get around the roadblocks thrown in her face over before she’d even had the chance to try?

  She’d been counting on the chief to help her. It had been his unit that had been called out to the fire. Surely he had to know something. Something beyond the rhetoric the cops, and then the Feds, had spouted at her family. She didn’t believe them for a second—any of them. Everyone was protecting their own asses, or something else, but she knew better. There was no way things had gone down the way they’d been written up in the official report, and she was going to prove it if it was the last thing she did. She owed him.

  Her parents had long given up, writing her brother off as the black sheep of the family. It was easier for them that way, Maya supposed. She couldn’t believe either of her parents really thought that any of it was true, either. But with the FBI breathing down their necks, she could understand why they didn’t pursue anything, even if she didn’t agree.

  That didn’t mean she was going to drop it. Hell, no. Her brother had been there for her since she was born, with toy soldiers when she’d rejected dolls, wicked-awesome dessert constructions that towered almost, it seemed, to the sky, and with a hug and a bandage when she fell off her bike. Or skateboard. Or face-planted on the concrete in her skates. A tomboy, Maya had grown tall fast, and her coordination hadn’t kept up with her legs. Even though his friends had teased him about playing with a girl, Jesse had always let her tag along, sneaking her a candy bar before dinner when he’d had some spare coins rattling around in his pocket. He’d loved her, and she’d adored him.

  There was very little of her childhood where he hadn’t been there, somewhere. Even when he’d graduated high school and gone off to college when she was still in middle school. Even when he’d applied for the FBI. He’d been gone for nearly five months at the academy, but he’d called and written. And when she’d stood at his graduation, applauding as he’d crossed the stage, Maya knew she’d been the proudest in the room. His classmates clearly saw him the same way she did, electing him as class spokesperson for the ceremony.

  So where had it all gone so insanely wrong?

  She forced another breath into her tightening lungs and swiped a stray hair off her forehead. Damn it. If she got herself all worked up again, Chief Stone would probably change his mind on the small concession he’d already made and toss her out on her ass. All he’d need to do would be to put her case down as the rantings of a grieving woman and that would be that. It would be over, all over again.

  His offer was more than she’d had when she’d started out that morning, more than she’d ever gotten arguing with her brother’s section chief. He’d so kindly suggested that she leave it to his best judgment, that they’d take care of it. That was in public. When no one else had been listening, he’d told her to shut up about anything to do with her brother permanently, or lose any hope of accessing what meager death benefits they might get. Might get. She’d rolled her eyes in disgust and told him to go to hell.

  And now the FBI wouldn’t talk to her anymore.

  So here she was, in the office of Battalion Fire Chief Alex Stone, of Monroe, Georgia. She’d shown up at the firehouse early, hoping to catch the men who had been on shift that night before they headed home for the day. Perhaps at the end of shift they’d be more willing—and able—to talk to her than risking an emergency if she’d shown up in the middle of shift.

  The firehouse wasn’t a massive building, but it was still as impressive as hell to her. Two large bay doors lifted upward, housing the engines; and racks lined the walls, holding special equipment: uniforms, oxygen tanks. It had been quiet when she’d arrived, empty, but soon the fire engine had returned and tired, dirty men had piled out, kicking off boots and dropping helmets and gear on the concrete floor. She admired the hell out of them. The men and women inside that building risked their lives on a daily basis, for people they’d never met. Her brother had done that, too, which is why he needed her to step up now. To do what he couldn’t.

  She wasn’t sure Chief Stone believed her any more than the FBI had, but at least he’d passed her a tissue when her emotions had betrayed her and tears had welled in her eyes. She’d swiped at them angrily. Maya had cried plenty of tears for her brother, but she’d be damned if she would cry a single one over what had been done to him. She wasn’t sad; she was fucking pissed, and when she found out who was responsible, she was going to make them pay.

  Which is why she needed someone higher up than the damn rookie. The guy couldn’t be more than a year or two older than she. Just how long had he been a firefighter? Had he even attended the fire last year that had taken her brother from her?

  “Hi, I’m Seth Hale,” he said, shaking her hand. He looked at her apologetically when his hand left a soot streak across her palm. She didn’t care, and offered him a small smile. May as well start trying to get on his good side.

  Before she could reply, the chief spoke again. “Seth will help you access the authorized reports and explain any terms you don’t understand, answer any questions you have.” The chief turned to Seth. “Maya is looking for information on the fire at Judge Taylor’s place. Public record only.” He trained his eyes on Maya at the last part and she resisted the urge to cringe. He’d clearly figured her out from the moment she’d stormed into his office.

  “Can I see the house?” she asked. May as well try for everything. She could always get the address from the reports and go herself, but having a trained eye with her—even the rookie’s—could be useful. There had to be something more there, and she wasn’t leaving until she found it.

  “Seth, you willing to take responsibility for her at the scene?” the chief asked.

  Seth turned to her, watching her carefully. Maya schooled her features, hoping she looked at least somewhat reasonable. In the end, she didn’t care whether she was “allowed” or not, she was going. But if she could avoid being charged with breaking and entering or tampering with evidence, that’d be great.

  “Sure,” he said at last. “Assuming she can borrow some safety gear. The place is cleared?”

  “You’ll have to ask Liam Cohen about that. If it’s not, then it’s all d
estroyed anyway. Place has been exposed to the elements for months now.” The chief huffed. “You know how it gets. Victim was a Federal court judge, and so everything has to be run through them.” He turned to Maya. “You can go, if you promise to stick to Seth here like glue, and don’t touch a damn thing.”

  “You got it,” she said. She had no idea whether she’d keep that promise until she got there, but Chief Stone was the first person in a few very long months who would even give her the time of day. It would help her in the long run to keep him on her side. She breathed in deeply again. Her temper and her patience were frayed, leaving her almost constantly on edge. It hadn’t been a gradual thing. It had pounded on her from the moment she’d opened the door in the middle of Sunday dinner at her parents’ place to find two men in dark suits standing on the doorstep, and it hadn’t let up since. Not since they’d told her that her brother was dead.

  And that he’d killed a Federal judge.

  3

  Seth

  Seth stared at Maya. Even as she moved over to the chief’s desk to sign some sort of paperwork, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She hadn’t given him one inch during their conversation, or anyone else. The chief could be a scary guy, even to a veteran firefighter, but Maya stood her ground. There was fire in her eyes, and steel in her backbone . . . and yet. Seth cocked his head, watching as she scribbled her name at the bottom of the form. Probably promising she wouldn’t sue if she ended up with a piece of fallen timber on the head or something. The building was past saving, any idiot could see that, and yet no one had gotten around to bulldozing it yet. Maybe the judge’s wife was holding up proceedings; maybe the law was. Seth had no idea. It was his job to put the fire out, whatever came after was . . . well, after. He was already moving onto the next blaze.