Chapter 22
“If I ignore the problem, it will go away. Right?”
-Aaron
“What are you doing at work?” My fireball of an Assistant Chief leans against the doorway of my office. “Thought you were taking the day off.”
I shrug and go back to the paperwork I’ve been trying to focus on for the last hour. “Needed to go over the budgets before the end of the fiscal year.”
“Bullshit,” Bridgit flops down in the chair across from me. “We did that last week.”
“What can I say? The Fire Chief’s job of playing politics is never done,” I point at her. “You’d best remember that when it’s your turn.”
She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Play politics with B-O-W-Gs? No thanks.”
“B-O-W-Gs?”
“Bunch Of White Guys.”
I laugh. She’s not wrong about the Flamingo Cove Fire Commission. “You might have a point there.”
“Can you imagine if I became Fire Chief what that would do to their blood pressure?” Bridgit tilts her head. “What about when they try to tell me how to fight a fire and do my job, even though they’ve never fought so much as a grease fire their entire lives? And how about when I tell them to go fuck themselves.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t I?” she raises an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s best that you’re in the big chair and I’m not.”
I blow out a breath. There are days I’m not even sure I want to sit in the big chair, but I don’t tell her that.
“Was there a point to you coming in here?”
“Oh yeah, Chief,” Bridgit hooks her thumb over her shoulder. “Blonde doctor lady is here to see you.”
I stand as Dr. Faith Jackson enters my office. “Faith!”
“Hey, Chief,” Faith rounds the desk and pulls me into a tight hug. “Sorry I missed you at Sunday dinner. Sol and I had special plans that night.”
“Special…” I break off when I spy the glittering diamond on her finger. “Congratulations!”
“You got engaged?” Bridgit grabs Faith’s hand, fussing over the diamonds and all the Cs.
“As happy as I am to see you, and congrats on the news, by the way, what are you doing here? It’s not often I get a personal visit from the Regional Medical Examiner,” I settle back in my office chair.
Faith nods then pulls a file out of her bag. “I came to talk to you about Jack Salazar.”
“That’s my cue to make like a tree and leave,” Bridgit bows out of my office, pulling the door behind her.
“It must be bad news if you came in person,” I eyeball the file.
“It is, and it isn’t.”
I wait for her to continue. Dr. Faith Jackson is a brilliant medical examiner. She has solved tough cases on multiple occasions. At first glance, she looks like an angelic cherub with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes. But even I know it’s best to stay far from her when she’s holding a meat thermometer in her hands. She gets a little stabby.
“Nadine Salazar called me for an autopsy because she didn’t believe Jack would crash his car into a tree,” Faith begins. “Toxicology showed no drugs or alcohol in his system. But I did find a tumor, pressing into the prefrontal cortex, the part of our brain that is responsible for decisions.”
“That makes sense,” I nod. “Nadine noticed a change in behavior the months leading up to the accident. Maybe that’s why he swerved into the tree? Saw something that wasn’t there?”
Faith frowns at me. “So, this tumor is new? It wasn’t something the family knew about?”
