Seeing Red (4 page)

F
ifteen minutes until the staff meeting, Walker.”

Buried in paperwork at his desk inside the San Diego Fire Department’s central headquarters downtown, Joe looked up at his micromanaging, anal chief. “I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, Chief Michaels moved on, stern frown still in place, ready to terrorize the next underling.

Joe let out a breath, not intimidated—no one intimidated him anymore—but frustrated. It’d been a hell of a week, and not just because of the blast from his past a few days ago, though that certainly hadn’t helped, especially in the thick of the night when the dark dreams sometimes came back, when he dreamed he was still hopeless, helpless, when the only bright spot in his life had been Summer.

But even that he could shove aside in the light of day. He’d been doing so for years.

It’d been seeing her again.

Facing who he’d once been.

The chief poked his head back into Joe’s office. “Don’t forget, you’re presenting on prevention.”

Joe didn’t jump, didn’t do anything but cut his eyes to the clock. He had thirteen and a half minutes left. “I’ll be there,” he repeated, and when he was alone, got up and flipped over the
WELCOME
sign to
STAY OUT!
before shutting the door firmly.

Then he went back to brooding over the stacks on his desk, held in place by three of his cameras. He moved his favorite carefully aside, the new and so-expensive-it-still-made-him-queasy digital, and pulled out one of the fourteen sets of blueprints he had to approve for the building department. Behind them was another stack of new building sites to inspect. Everyone in the entire county seemed to be building or rebuilding this year, and as a result, his scheduled workload had tripled.

This did not a happy Cindy make.

She’d been hot under the collar for days, which had meant no sleepovers for him. And now she’d given him an ultimatum. Cut back the hours or stick a fork in her, she was done.

He had to admit, she wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable, but cutting back just wasn’t going to happen, not at this time of year.

Adding to his troubles, it’d been three days since the warehouse fire, and he hadn’t yet satisfied himself that they were done with the scene. The suspected accelerant had turned out to be gasoline, which both Camille and Tina had told him in separate phone interviews they didn’t keep around. The mysterious vagrant hadn’t materialized, though they’d found evidence that someone had been there as recently as a week ago in the way of a boot print—size eleven and a half with diagonal tread. Interestingly enough, the print had held a trace of gasoline. Maybe the vagrant had attempted to light himself a campfire. No one knew.

Kenny thought they should rule undisclosed accidental fire caused by neglectful drifter, but Joe didn’t want to let it go. Only he wasn’t sure if that was because he felt tied up with the past, or if his instincts were truly screaming.

Kenny’s theory—which he’d been happy to share just this morning on a downtown high-rise fire inspection, where they’d been meticulously going through plans and checking fire escape routes—was that it was both. That because of the way Joe had grown up, he tended to keep people at bay, never sharing the real Joe Walker.

Joe had retaliated by pointing out that he’d shared plenty, using Kenny as an example, at which his partner had rolled his eyes. “Like I’m going to keep you warm at night. You need a woman, a good one, for the long haul.”

“This from the guy who changes women like shirts.”

“That’s only because I haven’t found the right one yet, but I plan to.” Kenny smiled at the challenge. “Can you say the same?”

“Yes.” He scowled at Kenny’s scoff. “And it’s not my fault I keep getting dumped.”

“Yes, it is. You don’t open up enough. How many times have I told you spill your beans, open the floodgates. Women get off on that stuff.”

“I’ve been dating Cindy for two months.”

“Because she thinks you’re hot and you’re pathetic enough to be bowled over by that. But sooner or later she’ll realize you’re not talking enough and you’ll get dumped again. Come on, Joe, you’re not the fat kid anymore. You can let someone inside. Have a real emotional attachment.”

Joe had grumbled then and he grumbled now. So he didn’t let people in, so what? It wasn’t just how he’d grown up. He knew that a person took their experiences and made their own path. He didn’t have to be an alcoholic asshole who beat on kids to feel like a man.

But if he knew that, he also knew he didn’t have it in him to really connect on a heart and soul level. Doing so would make him feel too open, too vulnerable.

Besides, he was perfectly happy this way.

He was, damn it.

His door opened, which meant someone was blatantly ignoring his
STAY OUT!
warning. He lifted his head, prepared to growl.

And Summer flashed him a smile. “Friendly sign you have there.”

“If it was any friendlier it wouldn’t work.”

“It didn’t work this time.” She leaned back against his office door as it clicked shut.

He tossed his pen aside and struggled to get it together in the face of this beautiful, smiling, warm woman who ridiculously reminded him of a time he’d rather not think about. “What do you want?”

“Hmmm,” she said, and stepped forward. She wore a colorful flowery skirt low on her hips that didn’t quite meet the hem of the layered tank tops, one white, one red. The strip of abdomen exposed was smooth, flat, and tanned. A gold hoop flashed at her belly button, which for some idiotic reason, made his mouth water.

For the second time this week he felt eighteen, horny, and pathetic.

And in need of a doughnut.

“Interesting and dangerous,” she said softly, drawing his eyes back to hers. “Asking me what I want.”

It suddenly felt hot in the room. Was it hot in the room? He resisted the urge to tug at his collar. “I think it’s a simple enough question,” he managed evenly.

“Sure. But to be honest, I want a lot of things.” She eyed him for a long time, then slowly sat in a chair. She crossed her mile-long legs, which left one sandal dangling playfully off her big toe. “
Three
cameras now?” She laughed and fingered a strap. “I still think of you when I see one of these.”

Was she
trying
to destroy him? Her hair was loose around her shoulders today, and still could catch the light like wildfire. She had something glossy on her lips but no other makeup. There was a Band-Aid on a knuckle and a silver ring on her thumb but not her ring finger, and she sat there like some complicated mix of mischievous girl and sexy, earthy woman.

His brain didn’t know what to do, but his body seemed to. And yet it felt odd to look at her, the one bright spot in his shitty childhood, the only reason he’d ever made it through high school, the first woman who’d ever held a piece of his heart.

And then broken it.

Jesus. If that wasn’t a mood wrecker, then the fact that she was looking good enough to lap up like a bowl of cream should do it. Lusting after her was apparently never going to change, which made his gut clench hard. “Just tell me why you’re here.”

“Is seeing me that bad?”

“I have a meeting in ten minutes, and my chief is breathing down my neck about it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She stood up. “Do you still do those breathing exercises I once showed you for releasing stress? Because maybe I can—”

“Summer.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Right.” She nodded, looking as if she felt a little foolish. “We’re not exactly still in each other’s back pocket, are we?” She backed to the door, that incredibly arousing belly ring glinting. But that wasn’t what got to him.

Her deeply troubled expression did.

Damn it. Damn
her.
“Summer—”

“Look, I get it. You’re busy.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” She reached for the door handle.

“Stop. Red—”

At the use of her old nickname, she glanced back, startled.

“I have a minute,” he admitted.

“Or ten.” She smiled but it faded quickly. “Okay, listen, I’m sorry for the interruption, but it’s my mom. She’s not doing well. The fire really got to her, you know?”

“I can imagine.”

“She asked me for help.” She sounded bowled over by that. “Me.” She lifted her hands. “I’m going to handle all the paperwork for her.”

“There’s going to be a lot,” he warned.

“Yeah.”

There was something deeply disconcerting in her tone. He alone knew the phantoms she must face being back in O.B., and he wondered how long she’d be able to handle being here at all. “You’re unhappy to be back.”

He hadn’t meant to say anything personal, and she looked just as surprised as he that he had. “I guess I am,” she admitted, and paced the length of the room. “I’d rather be on a mountain. On a river. Anywhere else, really.”

“Why?”

She lifted a shoulder but didn’t meet his eyes now that they were talking about her. “I don’t know. It’s closed in here. Crowded. It’s not the same.”

Well, there was a news bulletin.

She turned and faced him. “Uncle Bill wants to get my mother and Tina into the warehouse to see the damage but they’re still being held out.”

“I can get them in but after they look around, the scene will be sealed again. It’s a safety issue.”

She sank back to the chair. “And?”

“And…what?”

“There’s an investigation.”

“There usually is.”

“Yes, but do you think it’s arson?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“Why not?”

“These things take time,” he said. “You know we found an accelerant.”

“Gasoline. Which is crazy.”

“Exactly. That’s what makes it suspicious.”

That was clearly not the answer she’d expected. Again she got to her feet. “What reason would there be for arson?”

“Insurance fraud, revenge, blackmail—” He broke off at her wide-eyed look of horror.

“You think that my mom and aunt—”

“No, I don’t think,” he said. “I don’t think anything until the evidence tells me what happened. There could be any number of possibilities, accidental or otherwise. Employees, acquaintances, the vagrant…” She still looked horrified. “Summer, it’s nothing yet. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She turned to look at the plaques and pictures he had scattered around, stopping at the corner wall behind the door to look at one in particular. It was a shot of him and his squad, drenched, filthy, and dirty, arms slung around each other as they celebrated the end of the horrifying and tragic San Diego County fires two years ago.

“You asked me why I’m not happy to be here,” she said, staring at the picture. “But you are. You’re happy here.”

When he didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say, she turned and looked at him. “I always wanted you to be.”

He absorbed that for a moment, but before he could respond, the door to his office opened again. Cindy, dressed to kill in a siren red business suit, still wearing her name tag from her position at an executive headhunter agency in town, came in and smiled at him, clearly not seeing Summer behind the door. “Since you don’t have time to come to me, I’ve come to you,” she said. “I’ve brought the lunch special. It’s called Sex On Your Desk.” She shut the door behind her, put her fingers to the buttons on her blazer, then executed a comical double take when she saw Summer standing there. “Oops.”

Summer lifted her hands. “Oh, no, that’s okay. I, um…” She glanced at Joe with an indescribable look on her face. “Gotta go.”

Joe himself sat rooted, morbidly fascinated by the differences between the two women, one so fully made-up and blatantly sexual, the other’s appeal more natural, somehow more genuine. Both women were looking at him curiously, probably wondering why he’d gone speechless, and he thought that tonight, for once, he’d have a new nightmare.

Summer moved first, around Cindy and toward the door.

Ah, hell. “Red.”

Her hand on the doorknob, she glanced back at him.

What could he say? And he couldn’t help but wonder, is this how she’d felt that long ago day, standing between him and Danny? Did she appreciate the irony? “I’ll contact you as soon as I have any answers on the fire,” he promised.

“Yeah. Thanks.” She offered a small smile and glanced at Cindy.

“I’m Cindy Swenson by the way,” Cindy said, thrusting out her hand to Summer. “And I interrupted your business meeting. I’m sorry.”

“No problem.”

“Cindy, this is Summer Abrams,” Joe said. “We’re…”

Summer locked her eyes on his.

“Old friends.” Which felt like both an understatement and an overstatement at the same time. “From school.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Cindy said to Summer. “I’m so sorry for my abrupt appearance, but Joe and I don’t get much time together, as he lives and breathes his work.” She flashed him the look that for two months had been giving him an instant hard-on, but now acted like a shriveling agent.

Summer reached for the door again. “Okay, well, I’ll just let you two get to your, um…” She gestured to his desk.
“Lunch.”

He grimaced. “Red—”

But she was gone.

When the door shut, Cindy perched a hip on the corner of his desk and waggled her brows. “Ready to
eat
?”

“Can’t. I have a meeting—Whoa!” He lurched back up and put his hands over hers when she started to undo the buttons of her blouse. “The door—My chief—” She kept stripping. “Cindy, I mean it.”

She trailed her hand down his abdomen, and then even farther, cupping him between his thighs. “Mmm, look what I found.”

He grabbed her busy hands. “Cindy, I’ve got to go.
You’ve
got to go.”

He spent the last two minutes before his meeting walking her out to her car and seeing her off before racing into the conference room with thirty seconds to spare. Chief Michaels eyed him curiously but apparently had the willpower not to point out the oddity of two beautiful women visiting his usually woman-challenged fire marshal within five minutes of each other.

“Hey, gigolo,” Kenny said with a grin, possessing no such willpower at all.