Page 94 of Anchor Point

“I’m not sure, I couldn’t get her on the phone. Hopefully.”

The meeting was called to order and moved forward with agonizing slowness.

The back door opened, and the click of heels could be heard coming down the aisle. A woman stepped in front of me and sat to my left.

“Sorry I’m late,” Trina murmured.

I smiled darkly at my kickass attorney.

Another agenda item was ticked off the list before the back doors opened again, and this time, the sound of a group entering interrupted the speaker. He stumbled over his speech as he looked to the back of the room.

I turned to see what the commotion was and had to fight against the tears that burned my eyes. All of the fire department staff filed in. Every last one of them, on duty and off. Taking up rows of seats, starting with the row behind me, until they filled them and lined the wall. They’d come together as a unit to make a show of entering as a team.

I wondered who was covering their zones and then realized it’d be okay. If they got a call, they were in the city limits and could respond quickly. And make a show of it while they were at it.

So what if they were late to the meeting. They’d made it known they were standing together and standing with me. I didn’t really care if they made a distraction. They’d shown up to support me, and that realization solidified my desire to fight for them.

I nodded to the few who braved eye contact with me. I wanted to search for a particular man, the one who’d held me close in the morning hours as I worried over the meeting. I wanted him to come sit beside me, stand with me as my partner.

But I also wanted to keep my job, so I turned my glacial attitude on and faced the council of men who held my employment in their control.

The atmosphere in the auditorium grew tense. A low murmur of voices lifted until the chairman banged his gavel, demanding order. The crowd grew quiet as the council moved through the agenda and finally called for any non-agenda items.

The mayor sat up to his microphone.

“I’d like to add an item pertaining to the events of October 3, the night of the courthouse fire.”

A ripple of activity rolled through the audience.

The clerk motioned for the mayor to continue. He cleared his throat and picked up his paper. I swept a hand down my uniform jacket to wipe my sweaty palms. Inhaling deeply, I squared my shoulders, prepared for whatever he was about to throw my way. Next to me, Trina practically vibrated.

“Now, we all know that the courthouse fire was devastating,” he began, his tone and demeanor reminding me of the few times I’d gone to church revival and been subjected to theatrical judgment. “The fine folks of this community have looked to the courthouse for nearly a century. The history that we lost that evening is incomprehensible.”

It was all I could do not to huff, because this man was such a showman with his downcast expression and melodramatic sorrow.

He looked solemnly at his audience, making a grave point. “But I’d like to also bring to light other events of that evening.”

“Here we go,” Trina muttered.

“On that awful night, the entirety of our fire department was battling the blaze that destroyed our fine courthouse. Except there was an obvious absence of leadership on the scene. Now, most people would assume that with something as tragic as this event, the chief would be on the scene and in command. But it has come to light that the newly appointed fire chief was not on scene. In fact, she left the scene, leaving a lower-ranking officer in charge.”

He peered up at the council, making sure he had their undivided attention, his expression horrified as if I’d committed the worst sin imaginable. No mention of the active shooter. Or the arsonist who set the fire.

“In addition to that, I have confirmation that the fire chief has broken city Human Resources rules and has instigated a relationship with said lower-ranking officer. Now, I can imagine how that officer might have felt, suffering the advances of his higher-ranking female chief.”

He made a show of moving some papers around on the podium before him, frowning with grave intensity before continuing his monologue. “I’d like to gently remind you fine folks, sexual harassment goes both ways. And our fire chief walks around taunting her subordinates with her… tight skirts and her high heels. It’s a grave injustice to expect the lower-ranking staff to remain steadfast to their committed duties when she’s flaunting her assets like a common whore.”

The silence following his speech was deafening.

The mayor preened. Oblivious to the undercurrent of hostility, he slipped his fingers into his coat pocket and puffed his chest out.

“Now, I realize this position falls under the jurisdiction and authority of the city council. But I’d like to make a recommendation to remove this temptation from the fine men of the fire department. I make a recommendation to remove the fire chief from office.”

A roll of murmurs through the crowd forced the council chairman to bang his gavel to regain control.

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor.”

I sat as still as I could, afraid to draw attention to myself. Afraid to look my people in the eye. I should be jumping up and down at the insane accusations and blatant ignorance the man spewed.

---