Cries in the Night (5 page)

“They’re the most talented group of people I’ve ever met, but the economy has hurt their attendance.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Julie told her. “But I’m sure you’ll find another job quickly.”

“I have an audition for a film that will be shooting in Denver in the spring.”

“Are you still hoping to get something in L.A.?” Julie had heard that Kate’s original goal had been to build her resume in Denver, then move to California or New York where the opportunities were more plentiful.

Julie’s expression softened. “I have to admit that I’m not as motivated as I was. Now that Sam is back to work, I’ve realized how much I would miss him if I was away too long. If I can keep busy here, I’m happy.”

“Sam is definitely one of the good guys,” Julie agreed.

Kate nodded. “I know. Hey, we’re having a barbecue at Rusty’s apartment tomorrow to watch the game. Why don’t you come over and join us?”

“No, I’m on-call tonight,” Julie answered quickly. “My weekends are usually a little unpredictable.”

“We’d love to have you. There’ll be plenty of food, and you probably know almost everyone who’ll be there.”

“Maybe next time.” Julie moved up in line and was relieved to be distracted by unloading her groceries onto the conveyor belt.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Kate promised.

Julie paid for her purchases and called a last farewell to Kate. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Kate or Sam or any of the others. They were as close to friends as she had, but that was close enough. Julie kept to herself, spending long hours at work and enjoying her handiwork at home the rest of the time.

She had once been much more outgoing and had been very popular in high school and college. That had all changed when she fell in love her junior year at University of Connecticut. Julie pushed those thoughts from her mind. The bad memories outweighed the good. She had found it was easier to be happy in an environment she could control.

“What’s wrong with you people?” The pretty petite brunette shivered and wrapped her scarf around her neck. “It’s December, for God’s sake. Time to take the party indoors.”

“The Wilson brothers have pure adrenalin instead of blood running through their veins,” Kate snuggled against Sam’s warm body, and he obligingly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer. She didn’t seem to mind the brisk air as long as she was with him.

The temperature on the outside patio of Rusty’s condo was a balmy thirty-five degrees. It had stopped snowing Saturday morning, but it hadn’t warmed up enough for it to start melting. Denver’s weather was one of the great urban myths of all times. People who didn’t live there thought that it snowed all winter and there were mounds of the white stuff on the ground constantly. The truth was that Denver’s climate was dry and mild. It didn’t usually snow much in the winter with most of the average fifty-five inches coming in two or three big storms, often in the spring. Regardless of the amount, it usually melted quickly and rarely stuck around long. The Chamber of Commerce was proud to boast that Denver got more than three hundred days a year of sunshine, more than almost any other place in the U.S.

And it was that sunshine that had moved the Wilson boys and their dates and friends out to the patio in spite of the chill. Besides, with the French doors swung open, there was a clear view of the big screen TV on which the Broncos were
challenging the San Diego Chargers at Mile High Stadium. There weren’t quite enough chairs for everyone, so Chris, the youngest Wilson, was sitting on the ice chest and Rusty was manning the grill.

If it had anything to do with flames, he was the expert. Ever since he’d been a kid, he had been fascinated by fire. By his teens, he had become the king of the barbecue pit, and no one had ever been able to dethrone him. He had the timing down perfect on when to turn the steaks and where to put the corn-on-the-cob so it didn’t burn.

“Toss me a Corona,” Rusty called out and wiped his hand on the stained white apron that had
Come on Baby, Light My Fire
printed across the front. Chris stood up long enough to dig a cold bottle out of the ice in the chest. He tossed it to Rusty, then sat back down.

“Hey, don’t get too comfortable. We need a couple over here.” Sam didn’t even try to hide his smile at his younger brother’s groan.

Chris stood again and opened the ice chest. “Anyone else?”

Sara, a petite blond with huge blue eyes held out her hand. “Sure. But make mine a Bud Light Lime.”

“Don’t tell me you’re watching your calories,” Kate told her. “I feel like an Amazon around you two ladies.”

Sara flexed her arm into an impressive muscle. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Chris snorted. “You should see her hoist people onto the stretchers. Trying to keep up with her is why I work out every day.”

Sara flashed him a surprised look. Hearing a compliment from her long-time friend and ambulance partner was a rare event. She had grown up with all of the Wilson boys and had shared their ambition to go into some area of public service. Her interest in medicine had led to her applying to be a paramedic. With an ultimate goal of becoming a doctor, she worked as many classes as she could in between her crazy hours. That left little time for romance, but for now, that suited her just fine.

When Chris had completed multiple tours as a Navy medic in Afghanistan, she had encouraged him to hire on with her unit. Their long-time friendship had moved easily to a working relationship. They even shared a two-bedroom rent-controlled apartment in downtown Denver. So far, neither had been tempted to take it any further, but it insured Sara a place at all the family gatherings.

Chris handed a couple of bottles to Sam and Kate, then glanced over at Heather who shivered again as if the very thought of a cold beverage made her more miserable and shook her head. “I’m going to sit inside.”

Everyone watched her go and although nothing was said, everyone knew that would be the last time they would be seeing Heather. She clearly didn’t have what it took to hang out with the Wilsons, and Rusty would quickly move on to someone new.

Sam had never been much of a player, and almost as soon as he met Kate, he had known he’d found his soul mate. They had settled into a comfortable relationship and were planning an intimate wedding in the spring. Chris was still adjusting back to civilian life and the crazy schedule of being a paramedic and taking classes at the University of Colorado. He dated occasionally, but so far he hadn’t met anyone he enjoyed hanging out with as much as he did with Sara. She was very serious about advancing her career in medicine, and even though he was two years behind her in school, they were able to study together. He wasn’t aware of the pool Rusty and Sam were running behind his back about how long it would take Chris to realize Sara was a beautiful young woman and not just a drinking buddy.

Then there was Rusty who, as the oldest brother, was determined not to be the first one to marry. In fact, he was quite happy to be single and playing the field. All three brothers were in careers that attracted groupies, but firefighters seemed to be the biggest target. Maybe because they were always the heroes and never the bad guys like cops. Or maybe it was because they saved people and puppies and houses. They were perceived to be strong and brave and physically fit, willing to run into a burning building when everyone else was running out.

Rusty was all that, and at thirty years of age, he felt he was at the prime of his life. And he made no excuses about enjoying his freedom to its fullest.

“So why didn’t you work the game today?” he asked Chris.

“And miss a free meal cooked by the master? Not likely,” Chris answered. “Besides, I’ve got finals in a week, and I’m going to spend this evening studying.”

Rusty glanced over at Sam. “I don’t even have to ask you why you’re not working today.”

“Are you kidding?” Sam scoffed. “Let’s see, would I rather be sitting here with a beautiful woman rubbing against me or standing out in the cold, directing traffic and dealing with drunk fans …?” He pretended to be considering the choice, then shook his head. “No contest.”

“There are plenty of beautiful women at Mile High who’d be glad to rub up against you to keep you warm,” Rusty pointed out.

“I’ll leave that to you,” Sam responded. “I’ve got the girl I want. And you’d better stop trying to make trouble. She’s got a mean right arm and her bottle’s almost empty.”

Rusty gave Kate a measuring look and pretended to be concerned.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t throw anything at you. However,…” she paused for effect, “I’m going to do everything I can to find a woman who’ll wrap you around her little finger. And then we’ll see if you can keep that firewall up around your heart.”

“Ha!” Rusty’s laugh was hearty and genuine. “You might as well hit me with the bottle because there’s no chance of that happening any time soon.”

From the living room where she’d been listening, Heather gave them a startled look. Apparently, she had been completely unaware that she had no chance at all. Rusty noticed her expression, but didn’t feel any regret. He’d made her no promises. In fact, he’d invited her only at the last minute to keep the numbers even. He knew there would be a little drama when he took her home as soon as possible after the meal. His ego wasn’t so big that he believed it was because she had any real feelings for him. After all, they’d met just a couple of days ago at the car dealer where he’d gotten his Explorer serviced. He recognized a girl who was caught up in the firefighters’ myth and wanted to add him to her scorecard. He was a player, but he didn’t keep a scorecard. Yes, he liked to date lots of women, but he was completely honest with all of them. Most of them were out for a good time as much as he was. But sometimes the groupies got burned. It was an occupational hazard that he didn’t lose sleep over.

“Steaks are done. Is anyone hungry?” he asked rhetorically. Everyone grabbed their drinks and reluctantly moved inside where they could eat at the table.

Julie had a leisurely Sunday. After her trip to the grocery store on Saturday, she had stopped by the hospital to visit Gloria and her new daughter. Other than the obvious cuts and bruises, a broken arm and several broken ribs, the new mother was already on her way to recovery. Battered women usually had an amazing ability to recover … that is, if they survived.

Saturday night had brought only three calls, all minor incidents that consisted more of offering suggestions for places where they could get financial assistance, counseling or legal advice. Julie had been home and in bed by two a.m. which was unusually early. But she knew Sunday would probably make up for it.

She slept late, had time to read the entire
Denver Post
, clean her house and even cook one of her favorite meals, chicken and rice, from scratch. She called the hospital to check on Gloria and found out that her mother had already come by and picked her up. Hopefully, the mother would do as she had promised and hide Gloria, Danny and the baby far from Denver and her abusive husband. Julie knew
there was always the chance that Gloria would go back to Carlos even though next time, she might be going away in a hearse instead of an ambulance.

As Julie did her chores, the Broncos game was on TV in the background. She liked football and had often spent Sundays watching games with her dad when she was young. Now she cared who won for an entirely different reason than hometown pride. A Broncos’ loss guaranteed a flood of abuse calls.

Football, basketball and even NASCAR races brought out the worst in people. When a favorite team suffered a loss, the sports fan often took out his or her disappointment on whoever was closest. A friend, a spouse, a child, a pet … all were potential victims at the hands of an angry fan. Of course, liberal alcohol use added fuel to the fire, and a long day in front of the TV with unlimited beer or hanging out at a bar with each score being celebrated with one or more shots magnified everyone’s emotional investment in the outcome.

It came down to the last two minutes, and when Peyton Manning threw a touchdown pass that sealed the win, Julie heaved a sigh of relief. At least the Broncos fans would be happy.

But there were other teams, losing teams who had unhappy fans. Her phone starting ringing at ten-thirty. The first call was a possible child abuse. Julie tucked her small billfold into the pocket of her slacks, picked up her keys and hurried out. As soon as she opened the door, the cat streaked out, anxious to get started on his nightly rounds. He had shared her lazy day, sprawled out in his favorite spot near the heating vent. Julie had no idea how old he was, but his graying muzzle and his increased time indoors told her that he was a little past his prime and heading toward his senior years. He paused long enough to rub against her legs and give a loud meow before bounding into the night. Now that he was a regular houseguest, maybe it was time to actually name him. It had been a long time since she had had a pet, and she was actually enjoying having him around.

Locking the door behind her she pressed the garage door opener that she always carried with her. She had heard it was dangerous to leave it in your car because anyone who broke in would not only have your name and address on the car’s registration, but they would also have access to the garage. The last thing she wanted was to have someone surprise her in her own garage.

Thankfully, only her car was inside, and soon she was on her way to her first call.