Page 32 of Fighting for Tawny

Finnigan cautiously peeked around a thick tree trunk. “Fuck me! Judge Cohen!” He reached for his cell phone and snapped several pictures of the judge as he parked and climbed out of his car. Finnigan switched to video and recorded Cohen entering Building C.

“Tex, are there security cameras in the hallway?”

“Yeah. I’m hacking them as we speak.” Tex paused. “And there he is outside Whitcomb’s apartment.”

Finnigan’s blood thrummed in his veins. “Got you. You’re fucked.”

When Moira returned a quiz from the previous day, Tawny noticed that she’d circled certain letters in her answers: M, S, C, W, H, C. Without any vowels, they did not form any words. No. Tawny smiled as her brain processed the letters. Given her current suspects, she deduced that they represented initials. Mickey Stoltz. Carey Whitcomb. Harry Cohen. Two of the three men Bette suspected of working together. Add in Perry Jones, and it created a quartet of corruption. Tawny understood how a connection between Stoltz, Cohen, and Jones could be, but Whitcomb’s involvement baffled her. Did he stumble upon their scheme and want in on it? Were they working alone, or were they part of a larger organization? She wished she had access to law enforcement databases to see if similar situations occurred or had occurred at other institutions. They’d focused their investigation on CIFW because of Lucy’s death, but Tawny wondered if they’d overlooked a pattern.

Their motive was obvious—good old-fashioned greed. Millions of dollars could be made in the drug trade. How were these men hiding their money? Tex or Hutch could easily follow a money trail if one existed.

Again, something niggled at the edge of her brain. Two names popped into her mind. Wendy Corrigan and Director Jerry Dickinson. What bothered her so much about them?

Yolanda poked her in the arm. “What’s wrong, Ginger? You’re starin’ at that quiz like it’s about to bite you.”

Tawny shoved it inside her binder. “I’m good, Yolanda.”

“You ready for physical training today? It’s gonna be tough.”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

After a grueling physical training session, the women changed into fire gear and trooped back out to the field. An engine from Station 92 sat parked on the track. Three firemen in full gear waited at attention.

“Class, it’s time to put into practice what you’ve been learning before you’re allowed off campus. You’ll be divided into three groups and assigned to one of these men who will test your knowledge and skills.”

Moira sent a group of four and three off with two of the firemen. Only Tawny, Yolanda, and Terrin remained. “You’re at the top of the class, so I’m pairing you with my second-in-command, Smith.” She turned and strolled toward one of the other groups with her clipboard.

Smith removed his headgear and smiled. Tawny’s knees went weak, and she almost grabbed Yolanda’s arm for support. Her heart pounded an ecstatic rhythm in her breast. Her man, the love of her life, stood two feet away from her. Tawny’s eyes feasted on him. His short hair shone lighter in the sun. He’d disguised his beautiful brown eyes with blue contact lenses, most likely because of his resemblance to Moira. Her gaze traveled from his beloved face down his broad, muscular chest, lingered on the six-pack underneath his shirt, and reveled in the rest of him. God, she wanted to throw herself into his strong arms and kiss him senseless!

He noticed her checking him out and winked. Yolanda jabbed her in the ribs, and Finnigan laughed. Its huskiness sent her pulse spiraling out of control. “Well, ladies, Captain Finnigan says you’re the best, so let’s see if her assessment is correct. We’ll start with the basics. As the captain probably explained, the equipment on the engine varies with need. I want each of you to name five things that most engines would carry. Then, we’ll check this baby to see if you’re right.”

Tawny allowed Yolanda and Terrin to rattle off their list first. Finnigan’s eyes met, locked, and held hers. Behind the blue contacts, his brown depths devoured her. She was certain if she touched his chest, she’d feel their hearts beat in sync. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. He took her breath away.

“Fire blankets, cutting tools, drones, emergency lighting, and axes.”

He broke their connection, and her breathing returned to normal. Or as normal as it could be with Finnigan so close.

“Ladies, let’s see how accurate your answers were.”

Finnigan opened two compartments, and they examined the contents. Tawny reveled in his voice, absorbing every word he said while also silently cursing him for the risk he took by impersonating a firefighter so he could see her. The man inspired and exasperated her, and she loved him for it. Just the sight of him bolstered her.

“I hope none of you are afraid of heights.” Finnigan stabilized the fire engine. Then, he raised the ladder to a safe height using the hydraulic system. “You might have to climb up one of these to douse a fire or rescue someone. Who’s brave enough to give it a try?”

The other two groups gathered to watch and listen to Finnigan’s demonstration. He asked questions about the ladders required on the truck and called for volunteers to handle the system. When he concluded the lesson and lowered the ladder, Moira rotated the groups, giving Tawny and Finnigan a moment alone.

“I’m sorry, Red. I couldn’t stay away. Are you okay?”

“Yes. You followed the lead I gave you.”

He nodded. “And we have solid proof. I took photos and video. Tex has security camera footage, too.”

“Add Perry Jones, the public defender.”

“Already done.”

“Find the money.”

“Working on it. God, I miss you, Red.” He didn’t dare look at her.

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