He found Bill, the department’s mechanic, just inside the bay repairing an air pack. “Hey, Bill.”
“Hey, chief. How’s the wedding hoopla going?”
“The rehearsal is this evening. I thought I’d catch up on paperwork.”
“We’re out of toilet paper,” Bill called after him.
How could people who could problem-solve inside a burning building find it so hard to deal with everyday shit? “Did anyone think about bringing a roll from home or dipping into petty cash and buying some? Jesus!”
Welcome back to reality, buddy.
He made his way past the various apparatus—an engine, a ladder truck, a water tender, two ambulances, an emergency rescue vehicle, and four ATVs—to his office. First, he called Food Mart and asked Mick, the manager, to send over a case of TP, since no one else was apparently capable of doing so. Then he spent the next hour going through a week’s worth of emails and incident reports.
It had been a pretty quiet week. A fatal MVA involving a motorcycle in the canyon. An EMS call involving Mrs. Beech, the old high school English teacher, who’d collapsed in the Food Mart parking lot. An MVA with injuries, this time involving a car and a bicycle. Hank’s hash oil explosion.
How was Hank, anyway? Eric would have to give him a call.
Then he came to the report of the fatal rollover MVA involving the little girl who’d drowned. She’d unbuckled her seatbelt, trying to help her injured mother, and the creek’s current had carried her right out of the car’s broken window. Moretti had tried to reach her, breaking with Team safety procedures by jumping into the water with no rope or harness, but he hadn’t been able to catch her. There was nothing he could have done differently, nothing anyone could have done.
Bad fucking business.
Eric pulled a box of cards out of his bottom desk drawer—condolence cards—and filled one out, signing it on behalf of the Scarlet Springs Fire Department and addressing it to the child’s parents. It wouldn’t make one damned bit of difference to them, but it was the only thing he could do.
He’d just stuck a stamp on it when Taylor called to suggest they take Moretti climbing to get his mind off things. “That’s a good i—
The department’s tone sounded out through the hallway.
Dispatch called them over the scanner. “Scarlet FD, we have a report of a car fire on Fourth of July Road.”
“Sorry, man, got to go.”
Fourth of July Road sat high above Scarlet in an area that was almost entirely wilderness. It was a narrow, winding road with steep drop-offs and sharp switchbacks that made it tough to access with anything wider than a pickup. A car fire up there could easily spread to the trees and turn into a dangerous wildland blaze.
Eric replied to dispatch, feeling almost relieved to have an emergency on his hands. Unlike his feelings for Victoria,thiswas something he knew how to handle.
He shouted to Ryan, his A-shift captain, who fell in behind him as they jogged to the locker room. “I’ll drive the water tender. You head up in your pickup.”
“I thought you were on vacation.”
“I’m taking a vacation from my vacation.”
Ryan laughed. “You got it, chief.”
.
Chapter 16
Vic sat with Lexi, Britta, and Winona in the ocean-themed waiting room at the spa, trying to catch up on her emails from Abigail. The women were all wrapped in fluffy, white bathrobes, fresh from getting facials. Now it was time for the manicure and pedicure.
“I think we should match, don’t you, Vic?” Lexi asked.
Vic looked up. “Yes, absolutely.”
“Then let’s all get French manicures and pedicures,” Lexi said.
The door opened, and four manicurists walked in.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t allow cell phones in the treatment areas for security reasons. You can store your phone in your locker.”