“Can I come?” Zack sat up. He wanted to win a prize.
“Not tonight, buddy. This is for the old folks. You’ll be bored.”
She drove down the street with a lead foot. “Your dad should have picked you up. Now I’m gonna be late.” She’d mumbled the complaint, but Zack still heard it.
“If I turn in the file to Bryce, he might think I’m incapable of completing the task.” All Zack wanted to do was show his teamhe was dependable and not a liability. That he wouldn’t cause trouble but was an asset they couldn’t stand to lose.
“Nah, man. He’d see it as a sign of respect. Might even give you another case option.”
“I’ll figure out what to do.” Zack leaned over and put the file on top of his duffel on the other seat. “I’ve got some other things to take care of right now.”
He gave Eddie a wave, then shut the door. Zack rolled down the window to let the evening spring air filter into the stuffy space.
He would do what Bryce had asked of him without giving the team a reason to question whether he could do his job without stirring up more issues.
He’d worry about the file later.
First, he needed to complete some practice training for the hazmat unit he was studying. It would be a welcome distraction to keep his mind from wandering to the people and places he didn’t want to dwell on.
Pulling out of the firehouse, Zack headed toward the creek.
Fifteen minutes later, he took long strides down to the water’s edge. Zack pulled out his test kit and scanned the area. A crew of workers in orange reflector jumpsuits and tall rain boots waded in and out of the water with fishing nets. The back of their attire readCounty Fishing & Boating Committee.
Zack headed down the embankment to his left and knelt by the water’s edge. He put his vials together, mindful to reread all the instructions to make sure he assembled everything in the correct order. Dipping the first vial in the water, he swirled it around before capping it and placing it in the bag holder.
His grip tightened on the second vial. How he wished his dad were here now. To see his son following in his footsteps. To tell him, “Well done.”
Except that wasn’t his reality. Between his parents’ deaths and his past with Naya, Zack had already made enough mistakes in life. He couldn’t create more trouble at the station. He’d earn his way into the fold with the other crew members and show everyone at Eastside Firehouse he should be there. Should be part of their team.
“We got seventy-five down here so far.” One of the workers held up their net.
Zack couldn’t make out what was in the net, but it took two men to haul it over onto a truck bed.
Must be some kind of cleanup from the bridge collapse.
Zack took the next container and followed the instructions. When he swished the water, the cloudiness dispersed and a fish lay belly-side up against a rock.
Zack grimaced.
No wonder an outside agency was getting involved.
“I said we have no comment,” net guy said. “We’re just a cleanup crew.”
Zack glanced over at the commotion. One of the workers waved his hand like he was shooing off a pest.
A woman with long black hair held back in a ponytail shook her head. A note pad and recorder were visible in her hand.
Naya.
And he’d been doing so well not thinking about her.
“People’s lives are on the line. Lives that are more important than these fish.”
“Excuse me?” the man’s voice bellowed, and he dropped his net, taking a step toward Naya.
Zack gathered his belongings and made his way over to the two of them. Best to keep the scene civil before it had an opportunity to go south.
“Can I help you?” Zack shifted his gaze between the worker and Naya.