The Protector (23 page)

“She’s confused.”

“A little,” Tom conceded. “We’re weaning her off this med and back to the prior one. A couple days and I promise she’ll be back to normal and embarrassed about this.”

“I hear you.” Jack knew embarrassed would be an understatement. “I’ll call the family and give them a heads-up. What do you want me to say?”

“She’s wrenched her back, but she’s wiggling her toes and she’s not biting her lip to handle the pain, so I think we’ll be back home after I get a spine scan as a precaution. I’ll call from the hospital and let you know how it’s going.” Tom shifted the phone. “Jen—” He laughed. “Hold on, Jack. Give me the towel, honey. You really don’t want to have your monogrammed towel chewed up. Jack…I’m glad you were near a phone. Jen was sleeping, the housekeeper went to the store, I got delayed by a page on the way back…everything went wrong.”

“It was my pleasure. And Tom, when she gets a little more coherent, ask her what she bought you for Christmas. You might have a problem.”

There was a deep pause. “Is it alive?”

“ To tell you the truth…I’m not sure.”

Tom laughed. “I’ll check. Thanks for the heads-up. We’re heading out now. I’ll call when we get there.”

The call ended. Jack shifted his phone from hand to hand before folding it closed, feeling lost as all the responsibility for the crisis shifted entirely to Tom.

Jennifer. Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly, grateful that he was very rarely asked to be the point of first contact for a family crisis. It was one thing when it was a stranger and an entirely different matter when it was family.

Cole walked over. His friend had been listening in via the dispatcher in Houston.

“Thanks for the help.”

“Trust Tom. Jennifer is going to be just fine.”

“From this.”

“Jack, don’t give up hope. A lot of people are praying for her.”

Jack knew Cole was one of those people. While he didn’t understand how they thought prayer could change things, he knew how sincere they were about it. At this point he’d take just about anything that might help. “I appreciate that.”

“Is it okay if I tell the guys what’s going on?”

Jack was peripherally aware that several of the firefighters had stepped outside in the last half hour to see if there was anything they could do. “Please do. Rachel?”

“She hung up on me when I passed on the news Tom had arrived. My guess is she’s going to be here very soon.”

“Cole—”

“She’s not going to cry all over you.”

“So you say.” Jack wished with a passion that his brother Marcus was in town. This was the stuff his older brother handled with ease. “Let me know when she arrives. I’m going to try and track down Marcus and Kate.”

“I’ll do that.” Cole headed inside.

Jack turned the phone toward the light that had come on at the back of the building in order to pick out the numbers. He paged his sister Kate to start informing his family of what was going on. As he looked up from dialing, a splash of red caught his attention.

Cassie was sitting at the picnic table. Her head was bowed. She was praying.

And the appreciation Jack felt was incredible.

“Hey, lady.” Jack slid onto the bench across from Cassie.

“You’re shivering.”

Cassie’s quiet observation had him realizing she was right. He’d been holding his jacket the entire time, not willing to set down the phone long enough to put it on. He rectified that, pulling on the jacket. The warmth was immediate. He turned his phone so he could see the signal strength and make sure the batteries remained strong. He reached his sister Kate and she was going to track down everyone else so he could leave his phone free for Tom’s callback.

Cassie had pulled on a coat and gloves, but she had to be getting chilled just sitting there. Jack would suggest they go inside but it would remove any chance to have a private conversation. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to chat—beneath his hands the wood was rough, the paint beginning to curl after a year of exposure—but after this day the discomfort didn’t matter as much as the chance to have a moment with her.

She picked up a thermos from the bench beside her and spun open the top. The aroma of hot coffee drew a final shiver from him as she handed him the cup. He curled his hands around it, grateful.

“You never told me your sister had cancer.” There was no reproach in the words, just quiet concern.

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hide it.” He circled the coffee mug around a knot in the wood. “It’s all happened pretty fast. She didn’t tell the family until the weekend after the Fourth of July.”

“Protecting the family from bad news.”

Jack gave a slight smile. “Temporarily preempting my job.”

“Jack, she didn’t make a mistake in calling you. Jennifer might have been confused, but she knew exactly who she wanted to intervene. How bad was the fall?”

“Four stairs. Maybe it was an accident, but I’m afraid it’s going to prove to be something worse. The cancer is around her spine, touching her liver. She’s had a brief remission, but this may be the first indication that has ended.” Jack ran his hand through his hair. “If the remission doesn’t last through Christmas…” He shook his head.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words were a mere whisper. She did understand. Cassie had spent Christmas last year in the hospital. And while she’d had visitors during the day, when Jack had swung by the hospital after he got off shift on Christmas day she’d been alone.

The foot-tall ceramic Christmas tree had looked pitiful, and all the Christmas music in the world hadn’t been able to change the fact it was a hospital room. She’d had skin graft surgery on her right arm ten days before. She’d had her arm elevated, resting on a pillow, and any time she tried to shift on the bed she’d paid an excruciating price.

Cole had been there earlier in the day but had been called away by a page. Jack had taken Cole’s place, picked up the crossword puzzle he had been reading aloud for her, and teased her into smiling as they debated words.

His Christmas gift to her had been a copy of
How the Grinch Stole Christmas
. She had laughed at it, as she’d laughed at everything else going on. He watched her by force of will refuse to let the pain win, refuse to let the despair take hold.

If Jennifer was in the hospital, he’d deal with it. But creating moments of lightness in such a dark day was not what he wanted for his sister. Not on what might be her last Christmas.

“She was at Johns Hopkins for weeks, then released to go back to Texas. Her wedding was two months ago. She was so happy, Cassie. They’ve got plans to come here for the Christmas holidays so Jennifer can see old friends from high school. If Tom calls and reports the cancer around her spine has returned and become aggressive, she’s likely to be going back in the hospital for the foreseeable future.”

“I’d say don’t borrow trouble but it’s probably best to be prepared.”

The phone call had been a shock. He was definitely not prepared and he had to get there fast. “Thank you for praying.”

She glanced over, surprised.

“Jennifer believes.”

“I’m glad,” Cassie replied.

“She needs something to hang on to—she chose the idea of heaven and the practical reality of marrying Tom.”

Cassie looked at him, then down at her coffee. She dumped the small amount that remained and had grown cool onto the grass behind her, then reopened the thermos to pour more. “You think heaven is a myth.”

“I mean no offense, Cassie, honestly.” That was the last impression he wanted to leave with her. “It would be nice to think eternal life did exist. But why should Christianity’s claims about heaven be more relevant than the claims of any number of other religions? Christianity rests on the idea a man rose from the dead. That’s pretty tough to swallow.”

“Not if Jesus was the Son of God. Are you familiar with what the Bible says about Him?”

“Jennifer talks about Him a lot.” And frankly confused Jack, not that he’d tell Jennifer.

“You need to get to know Him. Then you’ll understand why Jennifer believes. Why I do.”

“How?”

“You could try reading the Bible.”

It took him a couple seconds to realize the dry humor in her answer, to understand the smile she was trying to stop. He lightly kicked her foot under the table. “How did I know your answer would be to read a book?”

She reached over and tapped his knuckles with hers. “I know you, Jack. A look at the evidence and what Jesus said and you’d get your answers. Jesus is not a myth.”

“If you say so.”

“It would be easier to handle Christmas with Jennifer if you would look at it again with an open mind. Did you ask Cole to call in a replacement for you? The odds are good we’re going to be rolling out again tonight and you’re going to be busy for the next few hours. Ben can come in and cover your shift so you can focus on your family.”

The arsonist. The reminder was a wrench back to another painful reality. “If I’m not working he probably won’t start a fire.”

“Jack—”

“Don’t tell me that isn’t the current theory. I may be slow to put together the pieces, but I get there.”

She slowly nodded. “It’s a possibility.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, surprised she had been willing to put it into words. He didn’t know what to do about it. Pull himself off active duty? He’d wanted to be a firefighter since the day as a child he’d seen his first fire. He couldn’t imagine being anything else. He had an obligation as well as responsibility to his men, but if that was what it took.… “I’m a firefighter. This is what I do, who I am. If someone does have a beef with me—” He shook his head. “I’ll cross that bridge when it’s more than a possibility.” Tom would be calling back in the next couple hours. “Any more coffee in that thermos? It’s going to be a long night.”

“I’ll go get us a refill.” She slid from the bench. “Jack—you’re interesting to watch in an emergency. You’re the first guy I’ve seen who likes to pace and kick rocks while you cajole the world around you to get what you want. You did a good job.”

“Flattery, Cassie?”

She squeezed his shoulder as she walked behind him. “Truth.”

His cellular phone rang.

Twenty-five

T
he district offices were dark but for the lights on in Cole’s office. The clerical staff, other arson investigators, and building inspectors had gone home. Rachel would either park in the visitors’ lot beside the district office or along the street just past the fire station. Cole paced in the conference room where he could see both the lot and the street. Where was she?

He’d scared her with that phone call regarding Jennifer and he hated knowing that.

He interrupted something; Rachel’s hello had been distracted. As soon as she heard why he was calling, she practically swallowed her words. She scrambled to get him Tom’s car phone number, talking to herself in frustration as she searched for it and couldn’t quickly find it.

Cole was going to graciously forget what she had said aloud to herself even while he remembered it as an issue he’d have to soon tackle. Stupid had been the kindest name Rachel had called herself as she’d taken not knowing the number from memory, a misplaced purse, a jammed clasp on her address book, the tumbling out of dozens of business cards all as somehow being her fault.

Under the stress of a family crisis he’d gotten a glimpse beneath the layer of poise Rae normally maintained and learned just how hard she was on herself. He didn’t like it, not one bit.

She had to read him the phone number twice as she transposed digits the first time, and he finally had to stop her with a quiet word and remind her to get her reading glasses.

There hadn’t been time to reassure her. He was forced to leave the call with her open while he worked with the dispatcher to expedite getting help to Jennifer. And in the time that he had been talking with the dispatcher and waiting for Tom and the rescue squad to get to Jennifer, Rachel had been able to hear only thirdhand what was happening.

He’d passed word to her just as soon as he knew help had arrived. Her response was to abruptly hang up on him. He was afraid she had been crying.

Cole tapped his knuckles on the edge of the table.

She should have been here by now.

The phone in his office rang. With one last long look at the dark street, Cole moved to take the call.

The coordinator for the state crime lab was on the phone. “Hold on, Kevin.” Cole unlocked the secure file cabinet to retrieve his case index log. While he had a great support staff to keep track of case numbers, assigned officers, pending evidentiary tests, and court dates, it made his life easier to keep his own reference log that could go with him. “Okay. Give me the case numbers.”

Kevin read a list of six. The last two numbers Cole knew by heart. The popcorn case arson numbers were burned into his memory.

Cole turned and punched in his secure number on the fax, which would enable encryption and provide the requisite date and time log to make his life easier when he inevitably had to testify at trial. “How much paper are you dumping to me tonight?”