Fire Born (Firehouse 343) (9 page)

A fleeting smile graced Irene’s lips.
“Among other things.”

He nodded. “—and since she’s going the same direction we are, she offered to drive me and Kara so I wouldn’t have to rent a car. And just so you know, what else happened wasn’t part of the plan. I didn’t even have a plan—I just wanted to see her.”

“She must be beautiful, then, if you wanted to see her again so soon,” Irene said. “And Chris, honey, I may be nearly fifty, but I was young once. I’ve been in a situation where things
‘
just happen
’
like they did for you a time or two myself in the last twelve years. You and this Martie are both consenting adults—you don’t have to justify yourself to me.
”

“Who’s Martie?”

Chris and Irene looked up at the sound of
Karalyn’s
voice. He stood and walked over to her as she was taking a towel to her hair.

“How
ya
doin
’, kiddo?” he asked her softly.

Tea
rs welled in 24-year-old Kara
’s eyes. “I want my daddy back, Uncle Chris,” she said as the watery drops spilled down her cheeks.

She’d been calling
him Uncle Chris since she was eight, when he’d met her for the very first time. He’d watched Kara grow up, torturing her parents through her teenage years, had helped her cope as best he could when her parents had decided to go their separate ways. And he’d watched her mature into a beautiful young woman with
bright brown eyes and a stunning smile that lit up a room. There were several guys in the department that he knew wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, but had been afraid to because Calvin had threatened to set them all on fire if they ever so much as
thought
about laying a finger on his little girl.

He drew her to him and embraced her warmly, tucking her head under his chin as she wrapped her arms tight around his waist. He had no words that would ease her pain so he said nothing. Just held her and rocked her back and forth, letting her cry her fill. Chris could hear Irene crying softly behind them, and he knew that they, and Tonja, had been another reason he’d locked his own emotions away. He’d felt the need to be strong for them, to be their rock. Someone had to be.

When she had quieted, Kara stood back with a sniffle. “So who’s Martie?” she asked again.

Chris grinned. One of the great things about Kara was her tenacity—it made her a kick-ass EMT. “Martine
Liotta
,” he said slowly, “is a friend of mine. She’s with the Montana Bureau of Fire Safety.”

“She’s an arson investigator?”

He nodded. “Yes. It’s standard procedure for an A.I. to conduct interviews and visit the scene of a fire when a fireman is hurt.”

“Or killed,” Kara added, hiccupping on the word ‘killed.’ “I remember Daddy explaining that to me when you broke your leg the day before my fifteenth birthday.”

He nodded, remembering the incident all too well
—his leg had gone through some floorboards weakened by the fire they’d fought and his tibia had snapped
. “Martie’s offered to drive us home today so I don’t have to rent a car, because she needs to go to Gracechurch as part of her investigation. Are you going to be okay with that? I’ll call her right now and tell her no if you’d rather it was just you and me.”

“No,
it’s
okay,” she told him, shaking her head and wiping her face with the damp towel in her hand. “I think I’d like to meet the woman who’s
gonna
decide if the fire that killed my dad was arson or faulty wiring.”

“Okay. Why don’t you and your mom order us some breakfast? I actually need to let her know
it’s
okay to come and get us.”

Kara shook her head.
“I’m not really hungry.”

“You
gotta
eat something, kiddo,” Chris admonished lightly. “You know it’s best to eat even if you don’t feel like it, especially when you’re upset.”

She grumbled under her breath but complied, walking over to sit on the couch next to Irene, whom he watched hand her daughter the room service menu and encourage her to pick something. He stepped away from the two and drew his cell phone from his pocket. He brought Martie’s number up on screen and opened up a blank text.

Good morning. With Kara and Irene in room 308
, he typed.
Kara’s okay with you driving us home
.

A thought occurred to him as he was pressing Send, and he quickly opened up another blank text.
By the way, I got your message. Thank you…for everything
.

He hit Send again and turned toward Irene and Kara, who said that he needed to come over and choose his breakfast. Chris had taken just two steps when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out again, he couldn’t help but smile to see that Martie
had responded so quickly.

Good morning to you too
, she’d said.
And you’re welcome. I’ll see you soon
.

Those four words—
I’ll see you soon
—suddenly meant the world to him, and the vice around his heart relaxed its grip just a little bit.

Although she had ordered her favorite breakfast—French toast with whipped cream—
Karalyn
onl
y ate one slice of the two, and after pushing her plate away she got up from the couch and went over to lie down on
one of
the bed
s
, facing away from them
. It hurt Chris to see her so broken up, and
he
could only imagine what her depression was doing to Irene, who had to cope with not only her daughter’s heartache but her own.

After Kara had gone to the other side of the room
, Irene
spoke
quietly as she
informed him that
Tonja’s
sister had come for her at 9:00 the night before as scheduled. Tina Webber had said that she knew Tonja would want a hand in planning the funeral, but to give her sister a day to absorb the shock of losing Calvin before making any decisions. Irene said she had agreed, as it was likely to be that long, at least, before
she
,
Kara
, and Calvin’s parents
were ready to do anything about the service.
She al
so let him know that
Rich
ard and
LouAnn
, Calvin’s father and mother
,
had called her from the in-flight phone on their plane. She
said she
’d told them she
would wait for
them
at the airport in Billings if they wished her to
, but
that
Richard Maynard had demanded she get back to Bozeman and take care of her business so she could “get your ass to Gracechurch and take care of my granddaughter.”

At 8:30 on the dot, just as they were placing the dishes back on the room service cart, there was a light knock on the door. Chris felt his heartbeat increase its rhythm in spite of his efforts to remain calm, and he moved to greet the new arrival. Opening the door, he found Martie on the other side as expected, and for a moment he simply drank in the sight of her. Last night she had been a balm on his soul, listening to him talk, letting him c
ry on her shoulder. She was there when he needed someone
even though she didn’t know him from Adam,
and that meant more to him than he could put into words.

She had also shared her body with him, and the memory of that intimacy left him wondering how he was supposed to greet her. Did he kiss her cheek? Could he kiss her on the lips?

Martie saved him from possibly making a fool of himself by smiling lightly and reaching for his hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze and he returned the gesture, allowing the corners of his mouth to turn up a fraction.

“Christopher, aren’t you going to invite the lady in?”

Heat flushed his neck
as he stepped aside for Martie to enter. Chris closed the door and made the introductions.

“Irene
Lawton, this is Lt. Martine
Liotta
of the Montana Bureau of Fire Safety. Martie, Irene is Calvin’s former wife.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. Lawton,” Martie said.

Irene nodded. “Thank you.”

Kara rose from the bed then and walked over to stand next to her mother. “So you’re the one who’s
gonna
find out who did this to my dad?”

Martie glanced at Chris. “
Karalyn
Maynard, Calvin’s daughter,” he explained softly.

She looked back at the younger woman, saying, “I’m going to find out what caused the fire, yes.”

Chris noted the vagueness of her answer, but then realized she had to be. Given the
Breckon
Apartments building’s age, the fire could very well have started by accident
du
e to faulty wiring and the
simpl
e
the wear and tear of time.
Even if Martie was somehow already aware of the ru
mored mismanagement
, she couldn’t very well declare any one person a suspect until there was concrete evidence of wrongdoing.

“Somebody did this,” Kara said then, her voice actually much stronger than it had been since yesterday. “I feel it in my gut.”

Or maybe you just want someone to blame
, Chris thought sadly. He certainly did. It was never easy to accept when
something like this
happened because someone was careless
, like falling asleep with a cigarette in hand or leaving a towel on a lit stove
. If the fire was set on purpose, or started because the management firm didn’t do their job, then
somebody was responsible
for Calvin’s death, however indirectly. It meant that somebody could—and damn well would, if he had anything to say about it—be held accountable.
At least if there was a person or persons at whom to direct his anger, he might begin to feel a little better.

Maybe they all would.

“I will
find out what started the fire,
Karalyn
, I can assure you of that,” Martie replied. “If there is a person directly or indirectly responsible,
the truth will be uncovered and they won’t get away with it.”

She took a breath then, and added, “However, I really think that you need to prepare yourself for the possibility that the fire was started accidentally. That there is no one to blame.”

Kara shook her head vigorously. “No. Somebody did this,” she repeated.

Chris watched Martie look to Irene, then up to him. He gave her the subtlest of head shakes,
then
said to the other ladies, “Why don’t we get ourselves checked out now, huh?
Time to go home.”

Tears filled Kara’s eyes again, spilling over as she silently nodded her head. Irene wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and took a quick glance around. When it appeared nothing was being left behind, she picked up her purse and headed for the door, Kara’s head resting on her shoulder as they walked together.

Martie grabbed Chris by the hand as he started to follow. He turned back with a surprised expression. “What is it?”

“Two things,” she said quietly. “First, I really hope you or Irene can talk that girl into seeing a grief counselor. It will be good for her, especially if it turns out the fire was an accident. She really seems to have her head wrapped around the idea that someone started it on purpose.”

Chris nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing. Part of me
wants
someone to blame because then there’s something to focus all this pain and anger on,
” he said. “I
mean, if the fire made the beam fall, which is ultimately w
hat killed Calvin
… If that
was something accidental, then it’s like he died for nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say for nothing, Ch
ris,” Martie returned
. “He saved a little girl’s life.”

“I know,” he replied with a sigh, and started for the door again.

Once again, he was stopped when she tugged on his hand. When he turned back, his expression was puzzled. “What?”

“Second thing,” she said, reminding him that she’d had something else to say. Only it turned out that the second thing wasn’t words, but an action, as she stepped up to him and
raised
up on her toes to touch her lips lightly to his.

Chris felt his blood begin to rush through his veins and he leaned into the kiss, managing to slip his tongue into her mouth to touch briefly with hers before she pulled back and stood straight again. He smiled.

“What was that for?”

Martie returned his smile. “Just because I wanted to,” she said, then took him by the hand a third time and led him out of the room.