Chasing the Fire (Backdraft, Fully Involved, Flashover) (24 page)

oOo

“
PASSENGER GETTING OFF
the train at
Culver Station fell onto the tracks. Rescue, Quint and Midi, House
7, go into service.”

They all bounded out of bed. Nick took a
quick glance at the clock as he dragged on his uniform pants and
shirt. Midnight. “Must be the last train from the city.”

Ramirez nodded. “I hate train-track calls.
They’re always complicated.”

They reached the rig in three minutes, were
on the road in four and arrived at Culver Station six minutes after
the call had come in. A group of lingering passengers waited on the
track, which was about five feet below the platform. Nick edged his
way to the front. “Langston and Cordaro, get these people back,
then talk to them about what happened. We can’t wait, though. She’s
in trouble.”

A woman lay on the tracks, with an arm
twisted at an odd angle. Her head was bleeding. “I’m going down to
assess the situation.”

“McCabe and I should come too, Cap.” This
from Lisa Beth.

Something niggled at Nick, some hunch that he
should go alone. “No, let me determine a course of action.” Without
waiting, he sat on the edge of the platform, turned around and
shimmied down the five feet into the cave of the tracks. It was
eerie down here, smelled obtrusively of gasoline and oil. The
feeling of concern spiked. Squatting next to the victim, he checked
her pulse. “She’s alive. Let’s—”

Riley Gallagher rushed to the edge of the
tracks. “Nick, the other passengers said this isn’t the last train.
Another comes a half hour from when this one arrived.”

“Then we better hurry. Hand me down a neck
brace and a backboard. I’ll strap her on and you can lift her out.”
He cocked his head. “How much time do we have before the
train?”

“Fifteen minutes.” This from Ramirez.
“Langston’s back there trying to get the engine conductor on the
phone.”

Nick caught the neck brace first and strapped
it on the woman. Then he saw it. Her right hand had gotten wedged
in the tracks. He tried to slide it out. “I need a pry tool to get
this part of the track up.”

“I’m coming down with it,” Ames said.

“No, Bilky. That’s an order. No more lives in
danger. I can do this.”

Reluctantly, Ames handed him the ax; he
hooked the end under the wood and yanked. Nothing. He tried again,
aware of the minutes passing. Langston should have the train
stopped by now. But Nick still felt a growing sense of unease.

Finally the board on the track popped up,
hitting Nick in the head. “Jesus.”

“You okay, Cap?” This from Ames again.

“Yeah. Give me the backboard.”

He took it, dragged the woman onto it and
strapped her in. Then he realized his problem. “One person can’t
lift this thing. Fuck!”

Ames didn’t ask this time. He slid down onto
the tracks, too. “You got the hardest head,” he said taking one end
of the backboard as Nick took the other. The two of them angled it
up and his guys pulled the woman to safety.

Both men placed their arms on the platform
and were about to hoist themselves up when Nick heard the abrasive
horn of the last train barreling down the tracks.

oOo

MAYBE THERE WAS
a benefit to being
young, happy and healthy, which Nick had been right about. Two
weeks after the night at Badges, Stacey was feeling better. He was
only a man. One she could forget with the passage of time. She’d
gone out for a run when Cora had arrived for work, had picked up a
latte and now came inside through the front door of the store. Huh,
no one was at the desk. “Cora, where are you?”

“Back here. I’ll be out in a minute.”

It was unlike Cora to leave the desk
unattended. Stacey circled behind the counter, then glanced around.
She could see the top of someone’s head in one of the aisles and
thought it even more odd that Cora had gone to the back with a
patron in the store.

Sipping her latte, she turned to the
computer. She called up her email and was excited to see two from
potential customers she’d notified about new books. She clicked
into the first one. “Hurray! He wants to buy.”

“So do I.” The deep baritone was familiar.
And sexy. Her heart started to beat at a clip even before she
looked up. There he stood in jeans, a navy pullover sweater and
what passed for a smile on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“I want to buy these books.” Again, he
shifted from one foot to another, seeming nervous. “I thought they
might help me.”

Damn him. Hers was the only bookstore in
town, but he could have gotten these purchases online. It was cruel
for him to come here, when she was finally starting to feel
better.

“Of course.” She turned the books to face
her. Lifting her hand to the cash register, she caught sight of the
title of the first one.
100 Ways To Say You’re Sorry
.

“Into self-help books these days?” she asked
snarkily. “I’d say you need them. Who’d you piss off this
time?”

“You.” He said the word simply.

She gave him a distrusting glance and wrung
up the purchase. The next was titled
Getting Rid of the Guilt
for Good
. Her gaze snapped to his and he shrugged.

“Look at the last one. It’s for you.”

The next book’s title was
Understanding
Men. Good Luck With That.
Forcefully she battled back a smile.
“Let me get this straight. You think you can walk in here and make
everything okay by buying a few stupid books.”

“No. I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. I
want a second chance.”

Lifting her chin, she stared him down. “I’m
not sure I want to give you another chance to hurt me again.”
Which, she was surprised to find, was true.

“I was afraid you’d say that. I’m buying
these books to help myself so I don’t hurt people I care about. I’m
thinking about getting some counseling. Is that enough?”

She watched him for a minute, mentally
deciding to put her emotional poker chips all-in. “I’m afraid not.”
She picked up the book
Getting Rid of the Guilt
. “You’ll
have to tell me what you did that’s so unconscionable that it made
you shy away from relationships. Then maybe I’ll give you a second
chance.”

Right before her eyes, he closed down. His
face blanked and his posture stiffened a lot like it had that night
at Badges. “I can’t tell you, Stace. I don’t have to. We can—”

She held up her hand. “It’s a deal breaker.
I’m not getting into a relationship with you and then have whatever
the hell that’s eating you come to bite us in the ass.”

“You won’t want a relationship with me if I
tell you.”

“God, Nick, you have to get over this
patronizing attitude toward me. I’m a grown woman. I make my own
decisions. I think what’s between us can go somewhere important,
but all the cards have to be on the table.” She reached out and
grabbed his hand. “Trust me, Nick.”

He studied her for a long time, and she held
his gaze unwaveringly. Then he drew away, walked to the door,
opened it and left.

Stacey’s jaw dropped. She thought he’d give
in. She glanced down at the books. He
had
tried with the
books, with coming here. But he couldn’t finish the job.

And as she said, knowing him fully was a deal
breaker.

That didn’t make her feel any better.

oOo

NICK STEPPED OUTSIDE
into the early
November air, hoping the crisp morning would make him feel better.
It didn’t. He stopped at a bakery window two doors down from the
bookstore and stared at the array of pastries, donuts and cupcakes
on display. But he didn’t really see them. Instead, he saw Stacey
standing before him demanding honesty. He saw that train barreling
down the tracks, headed right for him and Ames. He saw the face of
his sister and the man who’d debased her. Could he tell Stacey what
he’d done?

Yet, how could he not? She was right. A
relationship with her had potential. Would take them places. In his
heart, he knew he couldn’t ask her to take a chance on him without
knowing the truth. He’d have made the same demand of her if their
roles were reversed.

More frightened than he’d been last night on
the tracks, he pivoted, strode to the store, and went back inside.
She was right where he’d left her only a few minutes ago, staring
down at the books he hadn’t bought. When the bell tinkled, she
looked up. Her eyes were glistening, but they filled with hope as
soon as she saw him.

“All right. I’ll tell you.” He waved to
encompass the store. “Somewhere private, though. Away from
here.”

“Let’s go to my house.” She called back,
“Cora, you can come out of hiding now.”

Her friend appeared. “Why, whatever are you
talking about?”

“I’m taking the morning off.” She glanced at
Nick. “Maybe the whole day. Can you and the others handle the
store?”

“Gladly.” Her friend’s smile was broad.

She circled around the desk and Nick reached
out his hand. She put hers in his and they left the store. Nick
knew, deep in his heart, that one way or another, his life was
about to change irrevocably.

oOo

NICK SAT ON
Stacey’s glassed-in back
porch, where an unusual November sun streamed in, warming them. He
took the sunlight as a good omen. She curled onto the other end of
the wicker couch, with her feet up under her; he angled his body to
face her while he explained the awful thing he’d done. “I’ve never
told anyone but Kelly and Will Rossettie this story. I want one
thing from you.”

“Whatever you need, Nick.”

“That you won’t try to make this better. Say
I didn’t do anything wrong. Because I did.”

“All right. I won’t. Tell me.”

Nick began the tale and it was as if he was
back there on that cold December Christmas Eve…

A nasty fire had broken out in a part of New
York City where drug dealers and pimps resided. More often than
not, when calls came in from the neighborhood, the guys grumbled
that they should let the damn buildings burn down and cleanse
society of the scum of the earth. In his youth, Nick had never
believed that. He’d believed everybody could be saved. And tonight,
he was feeling better about Kelly, at least; he’d sent her to stay
with friends out west right after Alban’s visit. They were both
terrified he’d come after her again. Who knew what those animals
would do to her then? It had been all over the television lately
about the abuse, rape and torture human traffickers perpetrated on
their victims. Her absence from Hidden Cove didn’t solve the
problem of keeping her safe long-term, but it put his mind to rest
during a very busy Christmas. The department always got a ton of
calls during the season of yule logs and lights, both inside and
out.

Nick was told to follow his captain—who was
on point—into a five-story building. It was mega-hot inside and he
perspired badly. An engine company slapped water on the fire on the
first floor, and Nick’s group all split up to search the next four
floors. Riley and his buddy were ordered straight up to the fifth
because they were the youngest and would have to climb the stairs
with sixty pounds of gear. As soon as he reached the top of the
building, he knew something was different, because the hallway was
carpeted in rich red and there was fancy wallpaper on the walls.
And only one apartment door.

“Strange,” Nick called out to Pete.

“These fuckers probably got a lot of dough.
And we don’t want to know how they got it. They should all burn in
hell.”

Pete knocked on the door and called out,
“Fire department. The building is on
fire.”
No answer. “Go
ahead,” Pete told Nick.

Lifting his pry tool, he popped the door and
it fell inward. Smoke billowed out from the interior. Though they
could still see inside, a light curtain of gray obscured everything
but shapes. “Go right and I’ll go left,” Pete said.

Pete went into the kitchen and Nick headed to
closed double doors. He opened them and found…holy shit! This must
be some sex penthouse because chains hung from the ceiling, straps
dangled off the walls, and on one, there was a kind of wheel big
enough to hold a person. Jesus, Nick was young; still, he knew
these things existed, but he’d never seen them. He heard a moan
from the bed and walked farther into the room. He found a young
girl tied up—her hands and feet were each bound to a bedpost, and
she was naked. Removing his glove, he put his fingers on her neck.
Pulse was fairly strong.

Trying to ignore that she was the same age as
Kelly had been when she was grabbed, he cut off the ropes with a
knife. Then he found a quilt on the floor, wrapped it around her
but not before he saw a pattern of ugly purple bruises. He picked
her up. She was light enough to carry over his shoulder. They
started out quickly because Nick knew smoke inhalation up here
could be deadly. He was circling the bed when he caught sight of a
body next to a dresser about five feet away on the floor. Shit. The
body shifted. He knew he shouldn’t judge. But he was carrying a
young girl who’d been bound, beaten. And the man on the floor was
naked, wearing cowboy boots and had a riding crop in his hand.

Still, Nick set the girl back on the bed and
turned the guy over. Then he looked into a face he’d never forget
for the rest of his life. Mr. Alban. Fucking shit, how could this
be? Sure, this was the neighborhood where the creeps of New York
lived, but what were the chances of this happening? Alban opened
his eyes. “Help me,” he barely got out. Then his head lolled to the
side. Nick took his pulse.

Passed out. Not dead. Too bad.

Something inside him said,
He’s not dead,
but he could be. And your sister would be safe from him
forever.

But Nick couldn’t leave a man to die. It went
against everything he believed in. Then he remembered what had
happened to Kelly when this animal had come to the house. She’d
turned totally compliant. What had this guy done to make her that
way? And would she ever get over it? Or worse yet, would the
monster find a way to get her back and do the unspeakable to her
again? And then go on to victimize others?