“Well, that’s different.” His dark eyes had blazed accusation at her.
“How’s that different?” Riya demanded. Climbing trees was a normal six-year-old activity.
“I don’t know.” He had raised his voice, which was rare. “It just is.” Dhillon had picked up Hetal and taken her home.
What the hell had she been thinking? Trying to mentor others—she was still a rookie herself. It was her own damn pride that had kept her from seeing it. From admitting that Dhillon was right. Back then and right now.
She inhaled deeply and cleared her throat. She had to get back to work. The fire was out, but she still had to help the guys wrap up the hose and reload the truck.
Dhillon had worked so hard to make this dream a reality, but not much was left of his clinic. An image of a teenage Dhillon, scarfing down cold samosas in a tree house and declaring that he’d be a vet one day with his own practice, popped into her head. Her heart ached for that boy and the dream that was now ashes.
Even without the investigation, it wasn’t hard to see that Dhillon pretty much had to start over.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Tristan. “I contacted the owners. They’re on the way. I’m getting some pain meds for the dogs, and I’ll make sure they’re all settled safely.”
“Hey, Tristan. Is there a colleague of Dhillon’s who can take care of things for a day or so?” He would need some time to regroup. “Let them know what happened and where to go for care?”
“Yes. I’ll contact Shelly and coordinate with her.”
“That’s great. I’m sure Dhillon would appreciate that,” Riya said robotically.
“How are they? Dhillon and Hetal?” Tristan asked.
“Can’t tell. I’m still on scene. But I’ll update you as soon as I know.” Riya ended the call and headed for the engine.
On the ride back, the men around her remained silent. They knew who Dhillon was to her. They knew who Hetal was to her—and their lieutenant.
“Desai,” Lieutenant Ambrose called out to her.
She turned to look at him. Pained blue eyes pierced her through the ash and grime that covered his face. That covered all their faces.
“Well done.” His mouth hardly opened, revealing no emotion. Every eye was on them. He swept his gaze over the company, landing back on Riya. “The vet’s gotta weigh—what? One eighty, maybe two hundred pounds? Of solid muscle?” He curled his lip. “Impressive.”
Congratulatory nods, thumbs-up from all around.
She should be elated. The irony of the situation did not pass her by. The respect of her peers was what she had wanted all along. It was misplaced.
They arrived at the station. Riya hung up her gear and helped clean up. “Hey, Desai,” Evans called out. “You want the shower first?” He looked around at the guys. “We can wait.”
“Nah. I got to talk to Captain. You all go ahead.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “Yes.” She headed to the captain’s office as the guys gathered their stuff and headed for the locker room to shower.
She knocked.
“Come in.”
Captain Davis was already elbow deep in paperwork. He looked up, surprised. “Desai. Good work tonight. Glad you decided to be on the team.” He shuffled some papers.
She took out her badge and laid it on his desk. “I’m not fit, Captain. I’m out.”
The captain looked at her, his eyes wide. “What’s this? You did good work tonight. Put that back in your pocket.” He dismissed her with a wave and went back to work.
“With all due respect, no, sir.” This was the hardest thing she would ever do. She wasn’t backing down now.
“What’s this about?” He turned his full attention to her, pulling off his glasses.
