Line of Fire (Southern Heat Book 5) Page 4

  She finally turned to look at him, rolling her eyes. “Something that you apparently didn’t figure out after your crack about Cody Severs.”

  Fuck. She was right. “I guess not, but I definitely have now. Won’t happen again.”

  She kept her gaze on him, her eyes turning quizzical. “I don’t get it, Shane. We spoke about the other night this morning. I thought we had it figured out.” Her voice dropped a little, her fingers twisting together in her lap. “I really hope things aren’t going to be different between us now. You’re too good a partner.”

  He smiled, genuinely. If he couldn’t have Charlie the girlfriend, then Charlie the awesome work colleague was a pretty good second. She was great at her job, the patients loved her, and unlike a lot of the floaters who passed through, blessedly free of any weird habits. “Put it down to stupid guy stuff,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

  She smiled back, the nerves fortunately leaving her gaze. “Great.”

  Things moved fast when they got back to the house, dispatch ringing out across the house with another call before they’d barely restocked the rig. “Engine 81, Ambulance 32, warehouse fire at Cedar Industrial Park.”

  When they got to the warehouse, it was already engulfed in flames. A few workers in protective gear stood near the gates, waving the trucks in, but the rest of the parking lot was empty. Mason approached the man who identified himself as the foreman. “Anyone inside?”

  The man shook his head. “It’s only the four of us working today, and no one else was here. We were getting an order ready for shipment on overtime, when the whole place just went boom.” He brought his hands together and then waved them up through the air. “Didn’t even see it coming. Thank God we were on break and out of the main room.”

  Mason’s gaze sharpened. “What’s in the warehouse, any chemicals or hazards?”

  The man nodded. “Pesticides and some petroleum additives, but they should have been properly contained. I don’t know how it happened.”

  Mason turned back to Shane, yelling at him as the firefighters mobilized. “You stay out here with Charlie, check out these guys and make sure no one was exposed. I don’t know what we’re going to find in there, and I’d rather play it safe and have our paramedic definitely clear.”

  He nodded, moving quickly with practiced ease as he and Charlie set up a makeshift triage and checked out the warehouse staff. Fortunately, none seemed to be any more injured than perhaps in some slight shock. Their breathing was fine with clear lungs, and all were fully alert.

  By the time they were done with the assessment, the rest of his crew had piled out of the warehouse and stripped their protective gear, the fire finally under control enough to put it out with the hoses and finish up.

  With packing everything back up into the rig, being especially conscious to help Charlie out wherever he could so as to stay in her good graces, Shane didn’t get a chance to catch Mason again until they got back to the house an hour later. He jogged to catch up with his captain as they piled back inside. “So, arson?” Shane asked. He hoped not. Arson cases always gave him the heebie-jeebies, wondering what was going to be waiting for them all around the corner.

  Mason nodded, looking grim. “I’d say so. We’ll have to wait for the full report when Luke or his guys can get in there, but from what I saw, everything was properly stored. These guys haven’t been a problem in the past.”

  Shane shook his head. “But why on the weekend, when there’s only a skeleton staff there?”

  Mason shrugged, climbed the stairs, and pushed the door to his office open. “Maybe the arsonist’s goal wasn’t to kill anyone. It could have been about attention instead. A lot of people these days don’t like the idea of chemical anything.”

  “Let’s see what they say next time you use fire-retardant foam to stop their house from burning to the ground.”

  Mason grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “If only. I gotta fill in a whole ream of paperwork on this one. You and Charlie should catch some downtime with two calls in a row.”

  Dispatch blared over the speaker. “Ambulance 32, you have a 907 on Broad St. Mr. Langley again.”

  Shane rolled his eyes. “You had to say it, didn’t you?”

  Mason chuckled, sitting down at his desk. “Have fun!”

  The ride back out to Broad St. went faster now that it was later in the day. Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling up outside Mr. Langley’s address, where a neighbor was waiting on the sidewalk. Shane climbed out of the rig, vowing to keep his mouth shut this time. No matter what Langley said, unless he made any inappropriate advances toward Charlie, he’d leave it alone. Charlie grabbed her bag and started up the steps when the neighbor called out. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait for the police, Dear?”

  Charlie paused, turning back, her face looking as confused as Shane was sure his own was. She jogged back a few steps to where the woman was standing. “What’s going on, ma’am?”

  “I don’t know,” the woman said. “But I heard an awful lot of banging around in there just before, and the front door was open.”

  Charlie’s face cleared and she smiled at the lady. “It’s probably okay, ma’am. It was like that when we came out here earlier today, too. Maybe Mr. Langley doesn’t like to lock his doors.”

  Now it was the neighbor’s turn to look puzzled. “Mr. Langley?”

  Growing up, Shane had known the name of every resident on his street. That was harder these days, he guessed, particularly in some of the more built-up areas. Monroe was still a small enough town, though, that he was surprised the lady didn’t recognize his name. “Herman Langley, ma’am,” he said. “The man who lives here. We attended a call to his residence this morning.”

  “You must be mistaken, young man. No one by that name lives anywhere near here. That house has been vacant for over six months.”

  7

  Charlie

  What?

  Charlie could feel herself staring at the lady standing on the sidewalk. She should look away, say thank you, and just get back in the rig, but her mind was still back on what the lady had said. Finally, her mouth kicked into gear. “But we were just here this morning. Mr. Langley had cut his hand . . . nice older man.”

  The neighbor shook her head. “Bessie Simmons was the last person who lived there, until her family shipped her off to a nursing home months ago. Now, it sits vacant until someone comes around to empty it out.” She frowned. “We haven’t had any trouble in there, though, not until I called you. With all the racket, I thought there might be someone inside needing help.”

  Shane nodded, thanking the lady, and then walked back to the rig and picked up the radio. Charlie couldn’t make out every word, but she heard enough to know he was calling it in to HQ and asking for police backup. She looked over at the neighbor, still standing on the sidewalk. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll take it from here.” The lady smiled at Charlie and patted her on the arm and then went back inside her home.

  Charlie wandered over to Mr. Langley’s front steps—no, apparently Bessie’s—and sat to wait. Her feet were itching to go inside and find out what the hell was going on, but her common sense had come back online enough at least that she wasn’t about to go walking into an apparently abandoned house that had contained a fake tenant a few hours before. Not without backup, anyway. She frowned as Shane reappeared, plunking down on the step next to her. “What’s going on, do you think?” she asked. “He seemed like such a nice man.” She said the last part quietly, more to herself than anything.

  Shane shrugged, handing Charlie her bag, and then setting his down between his feet. “He seemed harmless enough, but he was a bit of a weirdo.” She turned to look at him, and he held his hands up as if in self-defense. “Didn’t mean it that way, honest.” Her eyes narrowed, but there was nothing but sincerity in his gaze. “I mean, there’s gotta be something up to break into someone else’s home and then call 911.”

  She looked back out onto the street. The
normal, quiet, suburban street. Monroe wasn’t a big city, but it had its fair share of people who found themselves in life’s circumstances. “Could he have been homeless?”

  There was that shrug again. “Maybe,” Shane said. “But he looked pretty put together, and what homeless guy eats ham-off-the-bone sandwiches?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. Before she could think on it any further, a squad car pulled up. One of the cops she knew, Adam Shaw. The other she didn’t recognize.

  Shane stood and Charlie took the hand he offered as she hauled herself up to her feet. “Thanks for coming out, guys,” he said. “Not sure if we really need you, but didn’t want to take any chances.”

  “That’s what we’re here for,” the cop she didn’t recognize held out his hand. “Chris Klein. Nice to meet you both.” Charlie shook his hand, introducing herself, and then picked up her bag, following Adam and Chris inside the place. It was as small as she remembered, only taking a few moments for them to clear the entire place. She looked around. The house was pretty much as they’d left it that morning, except that the food items were gone from the kitchen counter. Maybe she’d been right about the homeless part. If Mr. Langley was going through a rough time, it made sense he would have come back for whatever he could. The hospital wouldn’t have kept him long. They’d transported him because he’d asked, but Charlie had been able to tell that the cut really only needed cleaning and bandaging.

  Adam caught up with her in the kitchen. “Shane explained what happened this morning. What was the guy’s full name?”

  “Langley,” she said. “Herman Langley.”

  “During the call, did you sight any ID, mail, anything lying around with a name on it?”

  Charlie thought back. Apart from checking out the kitchen, she hadn’t looked much of anywhere except the patient. Mr. Langley had been pretty demanding of her attention. But then, that happened on calls a lot. Sometimes people were scared; other times they just appreciated having someone to chat to. “No, but I wasn’t really looking. Sorry.”

  Adam smiled. “No problem. I’ll call it in and see if we can find out what happened to the guy.” He spoke into the radio attached to his shoulder. “Hey, Ellen, could you look up a name for me. Herman Langley. Any records linked to 29 Broad Street?”

  While they waited on a reply, Charlie walked around the kitchen, her gaze falling on the various surfaces. The countertop looked clean, but several of the storage cupboards had seen better days. She opened one. The crockery inside was covered with a fine layer of dust. Weird. Adam’s radio squawked to life. “Negative, Officer Shaw. The owner of the property is listed as a Mrs. Simmons.” Adam looked over at Charlie, eyebrow cocked, and she nodded her confirmation. So far, it seemed like the neighbor was right. “Adam,” Ellen’s voice came back over the radio. “There’s no record of a Herman Langley living anywhere near Broad Street in the last ten years. In fact, no one by that name has been registered recently as living in Monroe, period.”

  Okay. That wasn’t just weird. That was a little creepy. Still, Charlie forced herself not to jump to conclusions. As well as not being the first patient by a long shot who paid her extra attention, he also wasn’t the first to use a false name. No insurance, some kind of warrant out, or just a past they’d rather forget about . . . there were all sorts of reasons why someone might have changed their name, and not all of them were terrible.

  Before she could think on it any further, Shane appeared in the kitchen doorway. “We’ve got another call. Traffic accident out on Cherry Hill Drive.”

  Charlie turned to Adam, smiling. “Thanks anyway. Let us know if you find anything else out, can you?”

  “Sure thing, Charlie.” Adam said. “Be careful out there, okay?”

  She nodded. “You, too.”

  Charlie let out a sigh of relief after they passed their patient over to the intake at the ER. Elaine Monahan had been difficult to manage, to say the least. Charlie had climbed over and into the car to stabilize her neck and spine while the firefighters had freed her from the wreckage. Being the smaller of the two by a long shot, she was often the one who ended up in the literal tight spaces when working with Shane. Usually, people were glad to see her, but all Mrs. Monahan had done was complain—about everything from Charlie’s treatment to what the firefighters were doing to her car. She’d resisted the urge to roll her eyes when the patient had started in on the firefighter freeing her from the dash, just in case the rearview mirror was still at such an angle that the patient could have seen her. Maybe it was shock, who knew, but any idiot should realize that the car was completely totaled when they weren’t able to get out of it without Squad cutting them out.

  The moment she was able to move, Mrs. Monahan had swept her legs out and bolted out of the car, leaving Charlie almost flailing to hang on. If the patient was launching herself out with both hands, then she was probably fine, but that didn’t stop Charlie from falling awkwardly or Mrs. Monahan from bumping her elbow on the doorframe on the way out. The woman’s complaining as well as fidgeting and agitation continued as they loaded her into the back of the ambulance, and as they rode all the way to the hospital. Usually Charlie was able to keep her cool in practically any situation, but after the last couple of days, maybe her stress levels were showing as Shane offered to let her take the wheel and to go in the back with Mrs. Monahan. That guy never gave up the keys if he could help it. Fortunately, she’d managed to talk the woman down to a mere simmer in comparison during the trip, but that was one patient Charlie was actually glad to see the back of.

  She glanced over at Shane, who was still standing at the desk—filling in paperwork or chatting up nurses, who knew? She waved to catch his attention. “I’ll be a couple of minutes, okay?” He nodded and she headed over to the elevator bank, making her way up to the fifth floor—psych ward. At first, the admissions desk stonewalled her, but when she explained she’d been the EMT to bring Cody in, the clerk’s face softened.

  “I still can’t tell you anything,” she said, before looking up the hall and then returning her gaze to Charlie. “But I will let you know that he was discharged this morning. If you know where to find him, you should be able to track him down.”

  Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. Already? She shouldn’t really be all that surprised. Along with funding cuts to first responders across the country, mental health and vet medical services weren’t exactly flush with funds, either. She hoped Cody would be okay.

  As she returned downstairs, she found Shane waiting for her at admissions. He smiled when she emerged from the elevator. “I checked in with Mason, and there’s nothing urgent going on right now,” he said. “How about we take a bit of a detour back and grab some burgers?”

  At the thought of the hot patty, melting cheese, veggies piled high, and crispy chips, Charlie’s mouth watered. “God, yes. You know the way to my heart, Shane Parker.” Her cheeks tinted at the words and when she looked closely, she could have sworn she saw a light coloring on Shane’s face. Charlie resisted the urge to sigh. There was no way she was getting into a relationship with anyone from work, but there was no doubt the attraction was there. Shane was one of the good guys, and someone she respected highly. She could definitely do worse.

  Shane pulled into the parking lot of the burger place and offered to run inside for their order, leaving her to babysit the rig. She watched him jog into the restaurant, studiously avoiding looking at his ass. His extremely tight, toned ass. Once he disappeared inside, she huffed out a breath, tapping her fingers on her knee as she stared out the windshield.

  It was quiet out, most people either already having grabbed lunch or having more sense to eat something better than a greasy burger. Charlie didn’t care. It sounded like pretty good comfort food to her. She turned to look out over the highway that lay behind the parking lot. What was she doing? Her night with Shane had been incredible. Hot and amazing, as if he knew her body as well as he knew her. They’d been friends for years, but how that meant he knew e
very button to push to have her writhing beneath his hands, she had no idea. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that she was a little interested, at least, to see if he could do it again. Had that night been heightened by drunken emotions, or could it really be that good with someone? Could it really be that good with someone for the rest of your life?

  A quick knock on her window jolted her back to reality. She looked over at Shane, who was standing outside the ambulance. He held up the paper bag, grinning, and pointed toward the back of the rig. Charlie took a moment to check that her cheeks weren’t burning red and all her clothes were still buttoned, then swung the door open. Thank God women didn’t have the same physical reaction as men, or she’d have been walking around Shane with a permanent boner lately.

  After stepping around the rig, she pushed up and sat on the back, Shane having swung the doors open to form a makeshift seat. He passed her the burger and she took a large bite, followed by a swig of ice-cold soda. Heaven.

  “Think you’re going to look for him?”

  “Who?” she asked. “Cody Severs?”

  Shane nodded, sticking a fry in his mouth and chewing, talking again once he’d swallowed. “Yeah. I don’t think anyone would mind if we swung by for a well-being check, given the circumstances.”