“Of course.” He glared at me. “Thin ice. Be very careful about leveling accusations without proof. Marlon might’ve misunderstood. He obviously thought Giancarlo was clear. He would never endanger anyone.” With that, Chief strode away.
His mere presence in this fire hall is a danger to everyone—including himself.My gut twisted. Not just at the near-miss tonight—although that was bad enough. No, I was panicked about the next time. About what happened when someone was injured, or even killed, on Marlon’s shift. I was absolutely certain that was going to happen. I couldn’t be on every scene every shift. Marlon and I weren’t always working together. And as good as I was at keeping my ear to the ground, I still chafed at not having been let near the tire fire on Friday.
Miriam had called me. She hadn’t been able to articulate why things had felt off—but they had been.
Yet nothing had come from those concerns. The fire inspector determined a faulty electrical panel had started the blaze. A plumber working the day before had shut off the water to the sprinkler, and no one had noticed.
Way too convenient. Or just shitty timing. Perhaps something more nefarious. But she didn’t have proof. And supposition wasn’t going to get us anywhere. Plus, to what end? The tire shop had been a profitable business. By estimates, rebuilding would take months.
By the time I finished my ruminations, Marlon was long gone and Miriam was organizing her gear. Firehouse Three covered us during the blaze, but we needed to be ready for the next call. Because it would come. Rare was a night we had a single call.
My thinking was borne out as we got two overdose calls—both young men. We revived one, but the other was already dead when we arrived. Which was super shitty. Apparently there’d been another young man found in a local park earlier in the day. Dead as well. Drugs were killing off our young people, and all we could do was watch. Interventions weren’t helping. Treatment programs weren’t working. Government at all levels claimed to want to solve the problem—yet none of them had a winning strategy.
I struggled into my front door the morning after that shift with barely an ounce of energy. I wanted to sleep, preferably for a month, but two days would do.
Instead, I took a shower, downed a coffee, and headed to Hearts and Paws. I nearly fell asleep in the cat enclosure. A particularly tubby orange tabby curled up on my lap. Her purrs nearly lulled me into unconsciousness so, after I left, I made my way to Timmies for another extra-large coffee and a chicken wrap. Having consumed that, I drove up to the high school. When I had Wednesdays off, I helped coach a basketball rec league for interested teenagers. Mrs. Gustafson coached both the boys’ and girls’ teams for Mission City Collegiate. And she was freaking amazing. Had taught me a thing or two, back in the day. The co-ed games I ran were for fun—for kids who’d never make the school team.
When I arrived, though, I immediately knew something was wrong. The group was huddled in the corner of the gym—not tossing balls like they normally would be. No one was practicing shots or dribbling. No one even noticed my arrival.
As I approached, and my shoes squeaked on the floor, Tenyce turned my way. “Did you hear about David?”
I shook my head.
Tears brimmed in her eyes. “He died. They say he OD’d.”
I stood still—trying to take in that news. David was on the verge of making the school team. Likely next season. He worked harder than anyone here and showed the most potential. He was shorter than most of the kids, though. I kept praying for a growth spurt to give him the height he needed to compete.
Leroy glared. “He didn’t do drugs. So he couldn’t have OD’d. That coroner has it all wrong.”
“When did he die?” Because I needed to orient myself.
“Yesterday morning. In the park.” Rue wiped her eyes. “But it doesn’t make sense.”
Drugs rarely did. Addiction took many forms, and not all users showed signs of abusing.
“You folks want to talk?” I gestured toward the bleachers.
To find Ulysses standing next to them.
“Wait here.” I gestured to the kids to stay where they were, and then I strode over to the guy who haunted my every waking moment as well as all my erotic dreams.
So not the time.
“What are you doing here? Do you have permission to be in the school?” I had a pass that allowed me to come and go, but not every community member did. The doors weren’t guarded—or even locked—but adults and students from other schools weren’t allowed to just show up and enter school grounds.
He shrugged. “I was here to talk to some kids about their friend’s death.”
“Does Mr. Clayton know you’re here?”
“The principal?”
I nodded.
“No. I didn’t realize—”
“Bullshit you didn’t. You know very well you can’t go skulking around schools uninvited or questioning minors about traumatic events without permission.”
He shrugged. “Did you know the kid?”
