Edge of the Heat (Westwood Harbor Corruption) Read online

  Jerry played with his coffee cup. “Well, what makes you so sure this is going to actually happen? It could have just been a, I don’t know, a dream or something.”

  Emma had been waiting for this question. This was the important question. Because this was what she had never shared in 23 years with anyone. She had tried to block it from her memory many times, but it wouldn’t go.

  “When I was 7, I went to Winton Elementary. One day at recess I was hanging upside down from the monkey bars by my legs, and Xander Tay ran by and pulled my hair hard. He didn’t let go and I fell on my head. I lost consciousness. I was only unconscious for a few minutes, but when I woke up I knew something. I had seen something while I was out.”

  Emma bit her lip and looked down at her shoes.

  “I was surrounded by teachers and the school nurse and principal were there. They had taken all the kids inside and called an ambulance. I told the teachers what I saw. I told them that Mandi Paulson was run over in the street by a blue car in front of the school. I screamed at them to go and get her. They hushed me and said she was fine and she was inside and I needed to lay still and relax. I doubted myself and I did what they said. The ambulance came and the paramedic said I needed to be watched for a concussion but I didn’t need to go to the hospital - things were different back then - and so the nurse took me to her office to wait for my foster parents. I was kept home for three days.”

  Emma stole a glance at Jerry and he wore a horrified expression on his face. He knew where this was leading.

  When I got back to school, everything was different. The teachers wouldn’t look at me or talk to me. The kids started saying I was weird, although no one said why I was weird. Mandi Paulson didn’t come back to school.”

  Two tears rolled down Emma’s face. She didn’t bother trying to hide them or keep them in or wipe them away. She cried sometimes. And she didn’t care who knew it.

  I never asked what happened to Mandi because I knew. The only thing I didn’t know was when it happened. In a couple of days word got back to my foster parents what had happened, and they took me back to social services. They didn’t want me anymore.

  “Oh Emma,” gasped Jerry.

  “It’s OK. They weren’t great parents anyway.”

  Jerry barked a laugh.

  “Did you ever find out for sure what happened to Mandi Paulson?”

  “Oh yes. When I was in high school I did some digging into it. I found the newspaper from the day after my accident. Mandi had been hit by a blue nissan in the crosswalk in front of the school while crossing to walk home. The driver of the car was never found. She was pronounced dead at the scene.”

  Emma took a deep, shaky breath and leaned back in her seat. She didn’t feel lighter, or better, or any other stupid cliche, but she was glad she had told him. Now to see what he thought.

  Jerry gazed openly at her, with his eyebrows scrunched, thoughtfully chewing on the inside of his cheek.

  Chapter 4.

  “Unit 17.”

  The radio barked out their call sign and both of them jumped. Emma grabbed for the radio. “Standing by.”

  “Respond to 1460 Wilson St., Unit 1208. Life Alert Call. No contact with patient. No further information given.”

  Emma was glad to do something and get some distance from the story. She hated people feeling sorry for her more than anything.

  Jerry shifted into drive and pulled out onto the street. There was no traffic, so lights and sirens weren’t needed just yet. Emma felt that familiar rush of adrenaline that she lived for. It had been too long!

  It took them 3 minutes to get to 1460 Wilson St. They were the first unit there. On a call like this, one engine and one cop car should be coming by too, since nobody knew what they were actually going to find.

  The building was a large, well-taken-care-of condominium complex called Wilson Towers. Jerry parked in front of the entry doors and they jumped out, Emma grabbing the aid bag. They went in the lobby and took the elevator to the 12th floor.

  At 1208 they stopped and knocked. No answer. Jerry tried the door. It was locked. He knocked and called, knowing he would get no answer.

  Jerry took the radio off his belt and called dispatch. “Central, get on the line with life alert and tell them the door is locked.”

  Central dispatch came back and said that the person inside had pressed the life alert button, but wasn’t saying anything. The woman who lived here was an 84 year old woman, and lived alone. Life alert was trying to contact her son now.

  Emma knocked on the door again and tried to think of what to do. Someone inside could be dying, and they shouldn’t stand out here with their thumbs up their butts doing nothing. The door was metal, and solid without even a peephole. There was no way she would be able to break it in.

  Noise at the end of the corridor caught her attention. It was two cops. She scanned their faces quickly and was relieved, like always, to see neither one was Norman. Now that he worked in the Vice unit, she almost never had to see him on calls anymore.

  Both the officers were women, one young and blond - probably 25 or so-and one closer to Emma’s age of 30 with a broad smile and a long, thin scar on her right cheek.

  “Party in the hall?” the older one smiled.

  “We can’t get in and the lady inside isn’t answering, or can’t answer,” Emma told her. She was glad to have the police here on this call.

  “Is an engine company coming?” the older cop asked. “They could break in.”

  “Yeah, this is Engine 18’s ward. I will call them.” Emma looked at Jerry and saw he was still talking to central dispatch. She took out her own radio and switched the frequency to Engine 18’s channel.

  “Engine 18, are you responding to 1460 Wilson St,?”

  The response came back faint and crackly - mobile to mobile wasn’t always great reception - “Yes, we are here, in the lobby.”

  “Uh, we can’t get in the door. You might need tools.”

  “Roger.”

  Jerry came back to the door, smiled broadly at the two cops, and addressed them all. “The son says he is out of town and can’t come with the spare key.”

  “Let’s knock on some doors and see if anyone else has one.” Emma suggested.

  They all spread out and started knocking on neighbor’s doors. Emma knocked and knocked but got no response. She looked down the hall and saw that Jerry was talking to a neighbor but the two cops were already picking different doors. Past them, the elevator opened and several firefighters in full turnout gear started to get out. She could tell at the distance that Frankie was in the lead.

  Oh great - these are the guys that were there when I fell off the roof.

  She knew the next few minutes would be uncomfortable but it was better to get it over with.

  She started walking back towards 1208 when Frankie spotted her. “Emma!” He yelled and started running towards her, his boots pounding loudly on the carpet.

  She smiled. Frankie was a good guy. He always had time for a quick chat and a smile.

  He ran up and slung an arm around her. “Hey Blue Eyes, I am so glad you are ok! I was sick to death when you fell off that roof. So what do we have going on here?”

  Emma laughed and filled him in. Frankie always razzed her about her blue eyes. Sometimes he called her “husky girl” even though she was quite slim. Her eyes were the color of a husky’s eyes though, and her most striking feature.

  Jerry and the cops came back to 1208 and relayed that no one on the floor that answered their door had a key or even knew this lady.

  It wasn’t really Emma’s call whether or not to break the door down since they didn’t know if this was a medical call or not. One of the cops was actually in charge of the scene until they knew what type of call it was. Emma bet her money on the older one. She turned to her and asked “What should we do?”

  “Give me a minute,” she said and walked a few feet away, radio in hand.

  Jerry nudged Emma and pointed at
one of the firefighters. He was standing at the far end of the hallway, ax in hand, helmet under his arm, chatting with one of his crew members.

  Emma looked and her breath caught in her throat. There were so almost 1000 firefighters plus 400 firefighter/paramedics working in Westwood Harbor, and no one could keep track of them all. She only knew a handful of them by name, and only had ever been on a call with less than half of them probably.

  She remembered this one from the call where she had fallen off the roof. He had caught her notice even then, even when there was no time for that kind of thing. This time, standing around like they were, she had all the time in the world to look her fill.

  Oh boy was he hot. Handsome. Smokin. Emma was used to being around hot men - practically all the firefighters could qualify as hot with their broad, open faces and short-cropped hair and no facial hair and muscular bodies - if you were in to that kind of thing. Which Emma most certainly was. She hadn’t been too into men lately though. Something about her loser ex-husband spoiled men for her for a long time.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by an elbow in the ribs. “Close your mouth Em, it’s not ladylike,” Jerry whispered to her.

  Emma slammed her mouth shut with a pop. Ohmigod was she drooling? She leaned against the wall, trying to look nonchalant, and turned her head, but kept her eyes on this new guy in Engine 18. That time at the roof call had been the first time she had ever seen him. They normally shared several calls a day with Engine 18 so he must be new. He didn’t look like a rookie though. He was at least 25, but probably closer to her 30. He had a confident air about him, like he had been on a 100 calls just like this before. His turnout gear was worn in and smoky, certainly not new. That didn’t mean anything though - he could have been issued someone’s old or practice set.

  His standard haircut was just a little too long on top, like maybe he liked to wear a faux-hawk on his days off. His hair was not quite blond, but not brown either. His eyes were a bit hooded and very kind-looking. She couldn’t see his body under all that gear, but she was sure it was drool-worthy. They always were. He stood at least 6 feet tall, which put him about 4 inches or more taller than her. Which was perfect.

  Emma started thinking she should look for an excuse to head down the hall a little bit and eavesdrop on him when Cop #1 came back over and said “the desk Sergeant says to break in.”

  Perfect. Let’s see big boy wield that ax.

  Jerry rubbed his hands together and practically jumped up and down. “All right!” He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, loud and startling. “Hey guys, get your butts over here, we need you!”

  The group of 3 firefighters looked up and started to saunter over to meet them and Frankie. The new guy moved like a cat with a small smile on his lips.

  Emma was still staring at him, and his eyes locked with hers. His small smile broke into a wide grin, revealing to-die-for dimples. Emma remembered something. She gave him a small smile and quickly turned to Jerry. “Wait, you said a new guy was the one who climbed down the drainpipe and saved me - is that him?”

  “Yep, that’s him. He’s a super nice guy. His name is Craig.”

  Aw man, Emma knew this was coming, but she still wasn’t prepared. Her plan was to take a trip over to Engine 18 after she had worked up the courage and get this guy off to the side and tell him thank you, in private, before she had to see him out on a call. But that was all screwed to hell already. Damnit!

  Emma’s mouth went dry. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. She hated being needy in any way, it always made her feel so anxious. She also hated being indebted to someone. That was the absolute worst!

  Breathe Em, breathe she reminded herself, and purposely took a deep breath. The three firefighters were right there already, but Craig was blocked from her vision by one of the others.

  Frankie told them what the score was and one of the men produced a huge, wicked looking crowbar. If they needed to pry cars apart that was probably what they used.

  He stuck the crowbar between the door and the jam and started to work it. The door was tough, but it was no match for that crowbar. Craig put his ax down and grabbed the end and they put all their weight on it. The latch popped free, but there was a deadbolt. They repositioned the crowbar and did it again. This proved a bit harder but they worked, worked, worked it.

  Emma hoped there was really someone in need in that apartment, because this door would never recover.

  Finally the hole around the deadbolt was big enough that one of the men just stuck his hand inside and unlocked the deadbolt. He swung the door open and looked inside.

  “Doc!” he yelled.

  Emma and Jerry knew that meant a medical. Emma shouldered their aid bag and in they went at a jog.

  An older woman with short white hair and a heavily-lined face lay uncomfortably on the floor in a large pool of urine. Her face was turned towards them, and her left eye was looking at them, but she said nothing. Her right eye drooped almost shut, and her lips were down-turned on that side. Emma thought she noted deep embarrassment in they woman’s good eye. Emma walked straight to her head and kneeled, speaking clearly. “It’s OK ma’am, we are going to get you straightened up in a jiffy. Can you speak?”

  Peace fell upon Emma. She took charge of her scene and her patient, and within 10 minutes, the woman was loaded on a gurney and headed down the stairs with a firefighter at her head and her feet. Emma had forgotten about the new guy for a while. Until this patient was safely in the hospital, all of that was put aside.

  Which was good, because if she felt halfway to ‘in lust’ already and that was something she didn’t have time for.

  ***

  Emma joined Jerry in the ambulance, picked up the radio, and stated “Unit 17, in service.”

  “10–4 unit 17”

  “Jerry, we should head over to engine 18.”

  Jerry swiveled his head slowly on his neck to look at her with an exaggerated mask of incredulity on his face.

  “Why Emma Hill, I do believe you have a crush.”

  “No, it’s not that, I just never got a chance to thank him and him till I do I will feel awkward anytime I see him.” Emma did want to see him again but she didn’t want Jerry to tease her about it. And she was telling the truth. She would feel awkward if she did not thank him.

  Jerry eyed her for a moment longer and then nodded, put the ambulance in gear and headed toward Firehouse 18.

  When he parked in front Emma jumped out and walked in the open truck bay before he could say anything else. They must have seen her coming from inside because she was already being buzzed in. She walked through the door and turned right towards the radio room. Frankie was inside. “Hi Frankie, thanks, where’s the new guy?”.

  “Check the kitchen, I think he is on lunch duty.”

  Emma turned around. Her nose led her to the kitchen. Bacon frying. Yum.

  Entering the room, the first thing she noticed was the very broad back bent over the stove. Double yum. That was him for sure. She stopped and studied him, being careful to keep her mouth closed this time. His blue T-shirt hugged his obviously muscular back. The muscles in his shoulders danced with his movements. His waist tapered perfectly into his blue uniform pants. His butt - oh my goodness was it perfect - swayed slightly back and forth as if he were dancing to a tune only he could hear.

  Wow, he is handsome even from the back.

  Emma swallowed, trying to get her throat to say words. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. Excuse me? Pardon me? Hey you? Yo handsome? What in the heck should she say?

  He must’ve felt her eyes on him because he whirled around quickly, pointing a piece of toast at her like a gun. When he saw her he relaxed and smiled. Those disarming dimples sunk into his cheeks. His face was all man, but the dimples gave him a little boy look that made you think he could do no wrong.

  Emma felt her knees weaken a little bit. What in the hell is going on with you sister? He’s just a man! You’ve seen handsome men before! Ge
t a hold of yourself!

  “Uh, hi, uh, you, uh,” Emma stammered.

  Ugh. She wanted to slap herself in the face. She was never tongue-tied around men. But then she wasn’t attracted to very many men either. Spending most days of her life with tons of handsome men, all of whom were just normal people, did that to her. Looks didn’t impress her anymore. Besides, her ex-husband was one of the most handsome men she knew and also one of the biggest jerks on the planet.

  “Hi, Emma right?” He strode towards her, big legs eating up the distance between them in nanoseconds. She put her hand up, intending to shake his, but he kept coming. He leaned in for a hug and actually picked her up off her feet and squeezed her, twirling her around once and setting her back down where she started. His scent: warm cologne, bacon, and pure, clean man, enveloped her.

  Emma gaped up at him.

  He chuckled, “Sorry, I know we haven’t even met yet but I feel like I know you already.”

  “Frankie has told me all about you, and I spent some time praying that you would recover fully, and of course I have already had my lips on yours.” Redness crept into his cheeks at that admission but he didn’t look away.

  Emma’s eyes widened and her mouth tried to open wider. It was already open as far as it could go though.

  “Oh, ah, nobody told you I gave you rescue breaths?”

  She managed to shake her head no.

  “Yeah, uh, well, once I got you turned over and your airway open, you still weren’t breathing. I didn’t have an aid bag or a mask so I, uh, I just uh …”

  He trailed off, still gazing in her eyes. Emma almost forgot what he was saying. His dark baby blues were so blue and big. His eyes had the innocence of a 2 year old - incapable of telling a lie. He put his mouth on hers?! That was unheard of these days! With diseases and lawsuits, you never, ever put your mouth over someone else’s mouth. You always used a mask or a barrier.

  But he didn’t have one. And he didn’t want to wait for one. He would have done the same for any of his brothers here in the engine company. That rule didn’t necessarily apply to others in the business.