Delectable 04 - Gingerbread Palace Page 9

  “Sure. But we don’t need to wait so long to go out.” Alex paused to consider the idea flashing through his mind. “Would you like to go with me to the Home Sweet Home benefit auction Monday night? If you’re not on duty?”

  “The auction dinner?” Bobby’s smile melted away. “Yeah, but the tickets are a little expensive.”

  “I’ll take care of that, don’t worry.” Alex could see that offer hadn’t eased Bobby’s concern. Maybe he was the kind of guy who wanted to pay for everything. Wouldn’t that be nice, to have someone who wanted to take care of him for a change. Someone besides Lacey. “I get a couple of seats as a donor.”

  Bobby smiled again. “That’s good. Yes, I’d love to go with you. I’m not working.”

  “Then it’s a date?” Alex asked.

  “It’s a date.”

  Chapter 5

  KEVIN had gone back to the garage. He liked to polish the engines when he needed time to think, but they were both out on calls, so he swept the floor. Twice.

  The captain came out as he was putting the broom away. “You’re sure bouncing off the walls tonight, Flint.”

  “Just trying to find something to do. I’d rather be here than home.”

  “The engines are on their way back. They’ve been on the run since they clocked in, so I’m calling in anyone from A and B Shifts who want another half shift. Give these guys a break and alternate calls during the night. You interested?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get your gear on E21 when they pull back in.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ten minutes later when the engines returned, Kevin greeted the crew and ran to his locker to bring his gear down to Engine 21. He hoped for a call to take his mind off everything that had happened the past few days. He needed to help someone, do something for someone, anyone, and stop thinking about how much of a jerk he’d been lately. He needed to prove to himself he wasn’t everything Alex Bancroft had accused him of being.

  Ninety minutes later he got his wish.

  As both engines roared out of the garage, along with the rescue vehicle, Kevin knew this one was bad.

  The captain summed the situation up on the way to the scene. “Single car collision, rolled off the freeway and down an embankment, maybe twenty feet below the road. Several motorists called it in. CHP is stopping traffic on the freeway, and PD is assessing alternate routes to the crash site. Medivac is ready to take off once they have an ETA for freeing the victims.”

  Two minutes after they arrived, it was clear this one was tricky. The car was closer to forty feet down from freeway level and about two hundred yards from the closest road, a narrow, twisty lane that would take them fifteen minutes to reach the wreck. They could rappel down the embankment faster.

  “Flint and Richardson take a team down the hill and start the extraction. I’ll send rescue and the ambulance to meet you via the surface road. They’ll stabilize the victims until Medivac gets here.”

  Thankfully, the terrain was flat enough for the copter to land close to the accident site. It would be safer—and faster—than hoisting the victims back up to the freeway level.

  Kevin clipped a carabiner into an eye in the engine’s bumper and threaded the rope through his rappelling harness.

  “Hope we can keep ’em alive ’til the vehicles get here.” Richardson turned his back to the drop-off and stepped into the void.

  Time to see what they’d need to fetch. Kevin fed rope through his hands on the way down the embankment, glancing down and behind him as he moved, adrenaline coursing through his body. The movements were ingrained in his mind and body, but every terrain was different and required his complete attention. Before he’d hit the ground, he’d seen something that turned his stomach, but he thought it might be a trick of the dying evening light, and he raced for the car almost before his feet touched solid ground.

  The vehicle had rolled a few times and come to rest on its side, though it was hard to see which side was which at this point. Kevin knew. He knew every piece of this vehicle, and even crumpled up, he recognized it. It was another Mark 2, just like the one in his garage. He went around to the front and noticed practically the only thing untouched was the damn grille. And the license plate. The car was from Oregon.

  Tilly had brought a hose down the hill to dampen the area to prevent fire. Richardson got on hands and knees to assess the victims. He got up, face pale and drawn.

  “It’s bad, Flint. A family. Parents and two kids. Everyone’s still alive but they’re all trapped except the little girl. She’s on the side, well, on the ground level.”

  Shit. Everyone hated when there were kids. A child thrown from the seat meant no seatbelt or kiddy seat. Kevin radioed up for equipment and bent down to talk to the victims.

  “I’m Kevin, from the Silver City Fire Department. We’re gonna get you out. Tell me your names.”

  “I’m Monica. My husband’s not answering anymore, and neither is my little boy.” She started sobbing, and Kevin couldn’t understand what she was saying.

  “Okay, Monica, I’m going to crawl in and take a look. Tell me where you’re hurt and if you can get out of the seat. Don’t try to get out, just let me know if your arms or legs are trapped.”

  “My leg, I think. It hurts a lot.”

  “Don’t move it.” Kevin kept her talking as he inched in to reach the little girl. She was sobbing, a good sign she was still alive and breathing. “What’s your daughter’s name?”

  “Cindy.”

  “Cindy, can you hear me?” Kevin felt even sicker. His niece was called Cindy. The little girl made more noise but didn’t move. That wasn’t a good sign.

  “Get me a board,” he shouted to Richardson. He grabbed it and positioned it so he could get the girl on it with the minimum amount of movement. He was careful fastening the straps around her, a task made more difficult because he had less than two feet of vertical room to work in. “Okay, we’re ready!”

  The guys outside the car pulled him by his boots while he held on to the girl. There wasn’t enough room to crawl back out with the board.

  The ambulance team went to work on Cindy until Medivac arrived, and the firefighters up top lowered equipment to cut through the car and free the three remaining victims. Kevin crawled back inside to work with the victims through what would be a frightening process. He scooted further in to check on the others. They were breathing shallowly but were nonresponsive.

  Kevin heard the chopper approaching. “They’re taking Cindy to the hospital so she can get immediate treatment while we keep working here.”

  Monica turned toward the sound, eyes wide, but she nodded and squeezed Kevin’s hand.

  The man and boy didn’t regain consciousness during the rest of the extraction operation, but Monica kept talking and crying the whole time. She wouldn’t let go of Kevin’s gloved hand, and he lay on his stomach with her until she could be extricated.

  “You’re doing really good, Monica,” he said every time she started to panic. He wished he could help the crew on the car, but he knew keeping her calm was important too. She could injure herself worse if she didn’t stay calm.

  The terrain and the dark made the job more difficult, and even the portable lights weren’t enough for everyone to work the equipment both quickly and safely. It took an hour to get the boy out. He was blond and about ten. Kevin couldn’t see how badly he was hurt, but it was bad, and he was whisked away onto another Medivac flight. Kevin wouldn’t lie to Monica, so the less he knew the better.

  An hour later they reached the husband and sent him off to the hospital, and twenty minutes after that, they pulled Monica out. She clutched at Kevin, breaking down into heart-wrenching sobs she’d bottled up during most of the rescue. She was stable, making the copter unnecessary, and EMTs carried her on the gurney to the waiting ambulance. Kevin didn’t have the heart to abandon her now and rode along to the hospital.

  “Are my kids okay?” she asked repeatedly.

  “I don’t know. They’r
e already being treated at the hospital. They’re in good hands.” Finally she closed her eyes. Kevin held her hand until she was wheeled into the OR to repair her smashed leg.

  As he walked through the ER, he could tell from the looks on the nurses’ faces and Tilly’s expression someone hadn’t made it. He didn’t ask. Just walked into the men’s room and kicked the trash can so hard he dented it. Then he broke down and cried. He let it all out for a few minutes before pulling himself together and splashing water on his face. He had blood all over the front of his turnout coat. It was Cindy’s. Puddles of her blood were on the ground as he’d moved in and out of the vehicle on his stomach. No wonder Monica had started sobbing when she looked at him.

  Blood washed off pretty easily, and that thought made him cry again. He didn’t want to wash away this family’s tragedy so easily, but he knew if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be strong enough to help the next victim.

  Richardson and Kevin got a ride back to the station with an ambulance crew. Everyone was waiting in the garage when they arrived, even Alex and Lacey.

  The “good work” shouts and pats on the arm didn’t do much good as Kevin and Richardson went into the duty office to talk to the officer filing the report. The sooner they gave their accounts, the more accurate. Gilbert came in and sat with them. He was Kevin’s usual partner on B Shift or whenever they were on duty together. He didn’t say anything, but Kevin appreciated his silent support.

  On the ride back, they’d learned the father and son hadn’t made it. The little girl had a spinal cord injury and was paralyzed. Despite the quick rescue, the docs weren’t hopeful about her prognosis, but there was always a chance. The mom, Monica, would walk again after a lot of surgery and rehab. She’d told Kevin how the accident happened while the fire crew dismantled the car around her and her family.

  They were driving from Portland to San Diego to surprise the grandparents—her parents—with a Christmas visit. The husband insisted he wasn’t tired and refused to stop for the night. They’d done the drive straight through before, and he wanted to get there by morning and surprise her parents for breakfast. Kevin hadn’t the heart to ask her why the kids weren’t wearing seatbelts. It wasn’t a mistake she’d ever make again.

  ALEX and Lacey had perfected the icing-mortar and made good progress on the foundation of the gingerbread house when they could tell something big had happened. The engines and rescue trucks had been going in and out since they’d arrived, with alarm bells ringing and guys running on a regular basis.

  But this was different. Perez, Gilbert, and Taylor had gone downstairs without a word about two hours after the last alarm.

  “What do you think is going on?” Lacey asked.

  “No clue. But they didn’t ask us to go. Let’s stay out of their way.”

  They kept working, and D Shift returned a little while later. Alex waited for them to say something.

  “What is it, Bobby?” Alex finally asked.

  “They caught a bad traffic accident,” was all he said.

  When the engines finally returned, the firefighters went downstairs. Alex and Lacey followed at a distance, not wanting to intrude.

  They stayed in the corridor leading to the garage and listened. Kevin and another guy hadn’t come back on the engines. An ambulance dropped them off a while later, and when Kevin walked in, helmet under one arm and brushing hair out of his eyes, Alex wouldn’t have recognized him. He was pale, like he’d seen a ghost. The front of his coat was covered in dried blood. Alex sucked in his breath when he saw it.

  “All that blood. Is he okay?” Alex asked. “Did he get hurt?”

  Gilbert was standing a few feet ahead of them and turned. “He’s not injured. It’s not his blood.”

  “Oh, good.” Alex meant it. He might want to kill Kevin Flint, but he didn’t wish the man harm at anyone else’s hand. Then he understood Gilbert’s meaning. It was someone else’s blood, and the victim had obviously been very badly injured.

  “He was in a crushed car, holding a lady’s hand while the crew cut her dying son and husband’s bodies out first.”

  Alex stared at Lacey. Everyone had survived the fire at his bakery, but this reminded him not every call had a safe ending. Gilbert’s answer also made Alex question whether he’d judged Kevin too harshly. Was there more to him than Alex had given him credit for?

  “Alex, let’s get back to work,” Lacey said, tugging on his arm. “We can’t do anything here but get in their way.”

  “Somehow making a cake doesn’t seem very important right now,” Alex said.

  “It’s very important to all the kids the money will help. We aren’t doing it for the cake, but to keep kids out of the horror we managed to survive.” She put her arms around him. “You need to do something to get your mind off this. But that doesn’t mean it’s not something to think about.”

  “You’re right. I guess we just help people who are in a different kind of danger.”

  AT BREAKFAST on Sunday, the mess was subdued. The Jaguar crash and losing a kid hit everyone hard, even the single guys. C Shift headed out, most guys offering to come back that evening if they needed more help. Kevin couldn’t get the sound of Monica’s voice out of his head: “Are my kids okay?” “My husband isn’t answering.” Worse than that was the knowledge that the car had crumpled and trapped the whole family. Was Kevin’s car safe? What could he do to make it safer?

  He couldn’t get the image of the near-perfect chrome grille out of his brain. The irony ate at him. If he put some effort into it, he could probably track down the vehicle at the impound yard and make a deal with the insurance company to buy the grille. But that was a low, selfish move. Even if he could get the images and Monica’s voice out of his head, he’d feel like a creep for benefitting from the family’s tragedy.

  He’d hold on to the money until another piece came onto the market, even if it took another year. Anger simmered in his gut over losing the original part. He’d been with Alex when the call came in, and he’d held that against the guy, too, even though it hadn’t been Alex’s fault Kevin missed the message. It was easy to blame Alex for everything going wrong right now.

  Between calls, Kevin checked in on Alex’s progress on the gingerbread house. By now it was clear to everyone this was no typical gingerbread house. It was huge, with towers and turrets and little clear sugar flags. Lacey had been crafting details and decorations and they would apply the finishing touches in the morning before taking it to the Fairlawn Hotel, where the auction would take place the next evening. The auction items were all displayed during the day, even though the bidding wouldn’t start until 7:00 p.m.

  WHEN Alex took a break for a cup of coffee, Kevin came over and sat across the table from him. He looked tired, but then everyone did.

  “The castle looks fantastic. How does it taste?” Kevin asked, his tone cautious.

  “Almost everything but the base cake is sugar. I wouldn’t recommend eating it.” Alex gave a small smile. He didn’t hate the guy as much as he had the previous day. The story about how he’d helped the woman in the car wreck impressed Alex a little. Perhaps he’d misjudged Kevin and he wasn’t as self-centered as Alex had thought. He’d acted compassionately toward the woman, and he’d been genuinely upset when he came back to the station, even before hearing some of the victims hadn’t survived.

  Was it enough for Alex to forgive him?

  “I thought about what you said last night, Alex. You were right. I’ve been going over that conversation, and even though it’s not enough, I want to apologize again. I know you’re not ready to forgive me, so I’m not asking. But what would I need to do to earn your forgiveness?”

  “I’m not going out with you.”

  “It’s not why I asked. You made that perfectly clear. I might be a dick, but I’m not stupid. I try to learn from my mistakes. I would like to earn back your respect and maybe your friendship.” Kevin looked down and started bending a plastic coffee stirrer back and forth. His hands sh
ook, and Alex wondered if he was nervous or just tired.

  “If you want my respect, then do something to show me you’re someone I should respect.” Alex looked into Kevin’s eyes. “You know enough about me to figure out what that might be.”

  “I’m going to call the arson team tomorrow. I want to make sure nothing I said will jeopardize the report. I know you didn’t burn your place down. I know your character now, and at the very least, you wouldn’t put so many people out of work on purpose. They’ll have to focus their investigation elsewhere.”

  “I don’t want that kind of favor.”

  “It’s not a favor. I’m only passing on more observations.” Kevin glanced up quickly, as if worried what he might see in Alex’s eyes.

  “In that case, thank you.”

  “I’ll let you get back to the cake. Sorry for the interruption.” Kevin stood up and straightened out his uniform. He’d been on calls all night, but he still looked well pressed and professional. And something about him still made Alex’s pulse quicken. If only he was as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside.

  Alex wanted to forgive him—if he earned it. All the apologies in the world didn’t mean anything without action and sincerity.

  THEY expected an afternoon full of TCs in shopping center parking lots. Rescue dealt with a few heart attacks, probably brought on by people stressing over whether they’d gotten the right gifts—or how much they’d spent. The sky clouded over and the temperature dropped.

  At three o’clock both engines were dispatched to a Christmas tree fire in a two-story apartment building. Crews from other stations would be meeting them there. Apartment fires were particularly difficult and dangerous. The tree was in a lower unit, and when they arrived, the only evidence of fire was smoke billowing out of windows on the lower floor. Thankfully, the fire didn’t appear to have moved to the second story yet.