Page 44 of Playing With Fire

“And, in a further breach of protocol,” said Ricky tightly. “The Chief called the fire station first, and then, five minutes later, my cell. And he also found time to call media relations.”

The car door slammed closed and Jodi watched Ricky stride across the car park in the direction of the Chief. Sally waved him away, but Ricky ignored her.

Bonnie, a vision in tight-fitting black, changed her angle and intercepted the young firefighter. She threw her arms around Ricky and appeared to burst into tears.

Jodi, her fingers flying over her cell phone, paused.

Ricky was a study in embarrassed masculinity. Stiff as a board, he gingerly patted Bonnie’s shoulder as though she was made of glass.

He seemed to be saying “There, there.”

Outraged as she was, Jodi couldn’t suppress an unprofessional snicker.

Tough gig, being the local hero.

A sharp rap on the passenger side window made her jump. Her grandfather’s face bobbed up and down.

Jodi’s eyes filled with tears. She jumped out and embraced the old man. His shoulders, which had once seemed so broad and wide, felt frail under her trembling arms.

“Gramps.” She sniffed into his neck, inhaling the familiar scents of Imperial Leather soap and hair oil. His pulse hammered against her cheek.

By the time she pulled away, they had both regained their poise. Jodi blinked away any telltale moisture and saw that Bonnie was still draped over Ricky, seemingly talking non-stop.

Talk about breaking news, thought Jodi, pulling out her camera.

Hunky NY Firefighter Comforts Hysterical Person At Aged Care Facility.

Hunky NY Firefighter’s Rescue Hampered By Weeping Maneater.

Bob Ruskin wove his arm through his granddaughter’s. “You missed the excitement hon.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” murmured Jodi. She shot a look at Bonnie, who had kept her grip on Ricky as he attempted to talk to the Chief.

Leroy Browning looked suitably grave. Sally Lett was firing off camera shots from different angles and Jodi silently vowed to not include a single image of the shapely manager.

Bob laughed. “That old show pony. He’s looking for votes before the next election, that’s why he didn’t call our new firefighter first.” His white eyebrows wriggled like ancient caterpillars and he glanced at Ricky’s car. “I see you been doing some research of your own about firefighting.”

Jodie snorted, which she knew was both unattractive and unprofessional in a grown woman. “Purely work-related,” she said airily.

“Uh huh.”

“Gramps, I have to go, sorry,” said Jodi, seeing that Ricky was finally starting to detach himself from Bonnie. “Gotta take photos, find out what’s happened. Grab a few quotes.”

“Yup, honey. And I’m going to escort the Acting Editor right to the scene of the crime, so’s you can get a scoop.”

Well, why not, thought Jodi. Nothing like an inside contact. And no one seemed to be taking the least notice of them.

The old man hooked his arm through hers and steered her down a side path through the shrubs, waving grandly at curious bystanders. “My granddaughter,” he explained unnecessarily.

It sure was a pretty spot thought Jodi when they finally arrived. The tennis courts and scattered seating were sheltered to miss the icy winds and to enjoy a few more minutes of sunshine. A few hardy New York astors provided a burst of purple and yellow against the thin crust of snow, and a bee hovered over a late show of dense clusters of tiny pink flowers on sage green shrub.

The air was full of oily smoke.

“Being the Christian that I am, I can’t accuse the Chief of staging the whole thing, even if I was tempted.” The Reverend sounded regretful.

Jodi fumbled for the camera. “Oh? Why not?”

Bob looked around to check for eavesdroppers.

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