Page 56 of Saving Jared

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"Kitchen’s clear!"

Willa let the mic she’d held up to the voice board of her SBCA mask fall back to where it attached to the inside of her turnout coat.

"Okay," she breathed out—the sound whooshing through her mask. "So far, so good." After Emma’s mother had reported being unable to locate her daughter and granddaughter, they’d wasted no time beginning their search of the building housing Emma’s Delectables. They’d made quick work of checking out the rooftop of the three-story building before heading down to the long shotgun-style apartment on the top floor.

Willa had painstakingly gone through the master bedroom belonging to Betty Golden—Emma’s mom—the laundry room, a storage closet, and now the kitchen. Neither Emma nor Mathilda had turned up.

Hopefully, the search going on in Emma and Mathilda’s bedrooms on the other side of the apartment would yield the same result. Right now, the floor below was mainly a construction site—so pretty wide open—but she didn’t need any reassurance it was being searched just as thoroughly too.

She leaned on her pike pole and glanced over her shoulder one last time where she stood in the archway leading into the living room. Her frowning gaze lit around the normally bright, homey kitchen. But it wasn’t that today. And probably never would be again. Smoke permeated every nook and cranny. And if she wasn’t mistaken, the fog-like substance trailing past her had thickened—rising to the ceiling. Whatever was happening in the ground floor bakery must be getting worse.

Thankfully, they’d found no sign of the missing mom and little girl anywhere in the bakery before she and the rest of her four-man crew had left the others containing the fire. At least she hoped it was being contained while they continued searching these two upper floors.

A slight shudder left her as she stepped into the living room. What would she have done if she had come across Emma or Mathilda—overcome by smoke or, worse yet, having perished in the fire itself?

You would have done your job, that’s what.

And she would have, of course. But she wouldn’t be telling the truth if she said she didn’t dread the prospect of finding victims. If any firefighter told you they felt any differently, they’d be lying. Or, at least they should be.

But as fate would have it, during her time with the department they hadn’t had any fire-related fatalities or serious injuries. She had no desire for this to be the first.

Not having Emma’s sweet friendship in her life wasn’t something she wanted to think about. And Mathilda? What could she say about the little girl who brought a smile to everyone’s face?

Willa let out a deep breath and peered toward the corners of the room where smoke continued to build. She just prayed they weren’t anywhere in the building and this search would end up being only a formality.

"Second floor’s clear, but we’re in heavy smoke," Rick Haver’s voice crackled over their shared radio connection. She sagged in relief, then tensed at the concerned note when he finished with a low, "They’ve left air compressors near the opening to the stairwell."

"You and Pierce get out of there." Captain Walters didn’t need to point out fire and air compressors weren’t a good combination. That fact had to be going through everyone else’s minds just like it was hers.

"We’re heading down now." Rick’s we’re encompassed him and Kevin Pierce from her station.

"Posey and Taggert, get your asses down here as quickly as you can."

"Checking out the last bedroom now," Cord’s voice added. She could have done without his presence. But at least he had focused on the job today instead of her.

For the time being.

Willa clicked on her mic. "In the living room." She let it drop again and grimaced over the heavy furnishings. "Mathilda? Emma?" She called out their names as loudly as she could. No answer. Not that she’d expected one. "So," she whispered, "if I were a kid, where would I hide?"

The living room wasn’t that big, but if Mathilda had somehow gotten separated from her mom, she might have sought shelter anywhere. That meant she had to be diligent and search any possible place a six-year-old might consider a safe place. One of the obvious spots would be behind the couch. So, she pulled it further away from the wall, then used her pole to lift up both sets of floor-length drapes framing the back of it.

Nothing.

Except smoke.

It had grown denser, filling the space faster than she’d like. It made it harder to see, and having her vision already limited by her face mask wasn’t helping. She—

"We’ve got a code four on the missing mother and daughter." Willa stilled at her captain’s words coming at her through her radio link.

"Say again." Cord’s clipped response sounded loud in her ear.

"Emma Flowers and her daughter have been located. So, head down."

"Gotcha," Cord muttered, but obviously didn’t think about disconnecting his mic before saying low, "Fucking waste of time."

"What was that, Posey?" Cord had clearly irritated their captain.

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