Page 9 of Where There's Smoke
“I mean, it can't be worse than that girl we dated last month who was obsessed with teapots and those freaky baby dolls.”
I shuddered. That was a weird one. I think we actually dodged a bullet there, not that teapots were bad, but the dolls…they had dead eyes, and I’d never liked them.
“Go write your freaking report, so I can shower,” I instructed, shaking my head.
“Yes, Daddy!” Fitz threw me a smirk before leaving.
If any of my other firefighters called me “Daddy,” I would have had them in disciplinary action so quickly that their heads would spin. But for some reason, Fitz seemed to get away with everything.Fucker.
Once he was out of sight, I pulled myself to the bathroom, quickly taking a shower to get the worst of the grime off me.
The hot water felt incredible on my sore muscles, and I just stood there under the spray for a while, absorbing the heat and enjoying a mini massage. I couldn’t leave it there, though. The filth was still clinging to my skin in places, so I reached for the bottle of shower gel and squirted a massive glob into my palm. Rubbing it everywhere, I made sure to take care of the worst spots and then rinsed off. I still had to finish my reports, get more started for the clean-up people who’d address the wreckage of the burned building, and set a reminder to check with the shelters about all those animals we’d sent their way.
With a sigh, I turned off the water, begrudgingly heading back to the office in a clean shirt and pants.
The stack of investigation files on my desk beckoned me, but I wanted nothing more than to toss them all in the trash. When I had started at the academy, arson investigation had been intriguing, but now it was starting to feel like a prison. Mostly because it was far less catching the bad guy and much more reading printouts and running into dead end after dead end.
Paperwork. So. Much. Fucking. Paperwork.
I needed to find a way to balance my work with my personal life better. All I did was eat, work, and exercise. Every now and again, I spent time with my pack, but even then, I was usually exhausted.
Picking up the file on top, I flicked through it, eyeing what the team had photographed from tonight’s fire at the shelter.
“Fuck,” I cursed to myself. Someone had forgotten to take photos of the ignition point for me to check. Part of what I did for every fire was determine if the fire was accidental or arson. We strongly suspected this particular blaze had started because of an old microwave in the break room of the shelter, but I still needed to study the photos to confirm as much.
So, without the photos, I was somewhat lost.
I could have easily asked one of the guys to go back and take some pictures of the place, but I knew they were all exhausted after the fire, so I grabbed my jacket and slumped out of the office. I didn't even bother to say goodbye to the other guys; I simply texted my pack to let them know what I was doing. I didn't want them feeling like they needed to help and offer to come with me. I needed some alone time.
Samson had been exhausted lately, with all the late-night shifts he'd been doing, and Fitz may have acted like a ball of energy, but he also got tired regularly, like a normal human being.
I was the boss. Sometimes that meant the not-so-fun jobs fell to me. And again, taking a minute to be alone sounded nice.
The fire had long since been put out, and it was almost light when I pulled up at what remained of the shelter. The remaining structure was still smoking slightly, which was normal, and we’d have people checking on the site every so often over the next few days to ensure it didn’t start back up. That was rare, but better safe than sorry.
I scanned the scene again. It was a hell of a fire. Electrical malfunctions were responsible for a lot of problems, and this one had done a fucking number on the place. There was no way it was going to be salvageable.
I felt a twinge of remorse about that one. Rune had mentioned that the beta woman had been wonderful with the bunnies and helping him get used to them. It was a shame that someone who was clearly good at their job and enjoyed doing it was now short a building. Not that any fire wasn’t a bummer. Sure, there were people guilty of arson, those looking for an insurance break, but those people were few and far between.
Most of the time, it was innocent, hard-working people whose homes and businesses went up in smoke.
Hopefully she had insurance.
“Okay, photos of the break room.” I was careful as I stepped through the debris and photographed a bit of everything before reaching the ignition source. “Yup, shit fucking microwave.”
Snapping away, I paid attention to the scorch marks along the wall. Daylight was only just starting to break, so I had to use my flashlight to see everything I needed to. It had all the classicsigns of an electrical fire, and I could see the remains of shoddy wiring that had been a fire waiting to happen.
Only, the ignition point looked a little too large—like it had been helped. Frowning to myself, I took a few more photos. I couldn’t be sure, but this was potentially arson.
Damn. I shook my head, ready to leave and head back to the office, when I noticed something through the window of the break room. I almost missed it, but standing where I was, the reflection of the streetlamp off the car’s headlight shone right in my eyes. There was a car parked in the lot just outside the building. I had been so focused on getting into the building, I hadn’t noticed it as I walked in.
This was effectively a crime scene until I said it wasn’t, and whoever was out there had no fucking reason to be squatting in the rescue’s lot. Grumbling to myself, I shook my head and stomped outside, going straight for the driver’s side window.
“Hey, you can’t park here. You?—”
My words cut off, freezing my knuckles on the glass as I stopped knocking, when I watched the small woman inside the car jump at the sound of my voice. It was her, the owner of this rescue.
As she met my eyes, her stare went wide. The woman fumbled to turn on the car and roll down the window, clutching her arm to her chest as she sat up. When the window was down, a burst of fragrance left the cab, the warm air oozing out as cold air rushed in. It smelled like melon, sweet, ripe melon that had my mouth watering in seconds.
