Chapter 14

Darcy

“Are you sure you’re okay with that man?” Truck’s staring out the window, watching Peg ride off on his bike, the roar almost shaking the glass. The look of regret on his face reminding me of the accident he’d had the year before. He’s still fighting a legal battle against the uninsured driver who shouldn’t even have been on the road. As Hyde and the prospect have left to dump the remnants of my bed, I’m alone with my crew member now.

“Miss your motorcycle, Truck?”

“Like you’d miss your fucking arm,” he replies, half under his breath, then turns to give his attention to me. “You seem to have gotten pretty cosy in a short time. What do you know about him, Flash?”

Only what I learned in one glorious day. But already I seem to understand more about him than almost anyone else I’ve ever met. I can’t tell Truck Peg already seems a match for my soul, that sounds too far too fast, even to admit to myself. But we’d clicked, that’s for sure. Something in him calls to something in me.

In the end I say lamely, “He’s a good man, Truck.”

It’s impossible to read the expression on his face. After a moment he sighs and walks into my kitchen, filling the coffee maker. “So, tell me, what happened this morning? And fuck, Flash, I’m sorry it was today. I couldn’t follow you home.”

I come up alongside him and wait for him to turn so he can see me emphatically shaking my head. “He must have been watching, Truck. He chose the one time when he saw I had no one with me. You can’t stay glued to my side forever. It would have happened eventually.” I move so I’m able to place both hands on the counter, and then fill him in on the events of this morning.

Truck’s eyes open wide as he realises Peg’s foresight in installing a monitored security system saved my sanity, and quite possibly my life. Who knows how far Pete would have gone in his deranged state?

While I’ve been speaking, he’s been making the coffee, automatically pouring two cups. Though it’s a warm day, my hands hug around it, needing the comfort as telling the story has made me go cold. Peg coming so quickly, and the events after Pete was taken away, had wiped the worst details from my mind. Now I start shaking as it crashes into me what could have happened if Peg hadn’t got here so fast.

Noticing, Truck takes my elbow and steers me back into the living room, positioning me in front of a couch, then pressing on my shoulder to encourage me to sit down.

“I’m alright.”

“No, you’re not. No one would be. Not after that.” He sits beside me and puts an encouraging hand on my arm. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Flash.”

Angrily I swipe a rogue tear away.

He gives me a moment, then asks, “What are the bikers going to do to Pete?”

“Have words with him and send him on his way. With a warning should he ever come near me again.”

Truck snarls. “I hope they make him hurt.”

I say nothing, nor explain how I pleaded for his life. “I’m doing this the right way, Truck. That’s why we need to get down to the police station. I need to make a report about what happened.”

“And get a restraining order this time.” Truck’s features set into a frown. “I’ll help with that. Least I can do. If I’d been here…”

“He’d have waited for another time.” I don’t want him feeling guilty.

Truck opens his mouth, but before I can respond my phone rings. I’d left it on the table, so get up to answer it, a smile curving my lips as I see who it is.

“Nicole! Oh my God, I’m sorry, I forgot we had plans tonight.” Just as I’m about to tell her I now won’t be able to make it, she tells me something that makes me go cold.

“Fuck. Okay. Hey, I’ve got Truck here. He’ll want to hear this.” Nicole works for the Forestry Service as a firewatcher looking out for fires. She won’t be telling me anything she won’t already have reported through official channels, so I press the key that sends it to loudspeaker. Truck’s already on his feet and has come up to join me.

“Nicole’s spotted some smoke,” I explain as he draws closer.

“Hi Nicole, Truck here.”

“Hey, Truck. Just called it in. Only a single plume so far, but I don’t like the conditions. Temperature is rising, and the forecast is for high winds.”

Together with the tinder-dry vegetation that’s not good news.

“It’s about five miles away from the tower, so I’m going to be trekking out when my relief arrives. Want to check what the fuel is like there. I won’t be ending my shift any time soon, that’s for sure.”

“Is it spreading?”

“Yeah, been monitoring a white plume for a couple of hours.” I glance at Truck, knowing if it flares up into something serious we might be called back in. If I go anywhere tonight, it will be with my own transport.

“Where is it?”

“To the north. About half way up the mountain over toward Snake Canyon. She gives the co-ordinates, and Truck’s checking them on his phone.”

“Wind direction?”

“At the moment it’s looking like the fire should go up.”

“There’s nothing there, no structures if it keeps going that way,” Truck interjects.

“Still don’t want it to get a good hold. Look, I’ve got to go now, Darcy. I’ll keep you updated when I get closer to it. I can give you a head’s up if it looks like your crew will be getting involved. Just thought I’d give you a warning in case.”

“Thanks, Nicole. And you take care, you hear me?”

She laughs. “I ain’t no fool, Firefighter. I leave the dangerous stuff to you.”

I end the call with a smile. Nicole Hudson. One of the first friends I made when I moved here, someone who speaks my language. She spends six months during the warmer months employed by the US Forest Service watching for fires, and the other half of the year writing her books. I’ve read a few of them, and they even make me blush. Our paths crossed with the first wildland fire I’d fought, and it seemed natural for the two females to team up together.

My admonishment for her to be careful was probably unnecessary. She knows as well as anyone how unpredictable fire can be, how quickly it can change direction. But sometimes in the forest it’s difficult to see exactly what’s burning, and what type of fuel there is. If there’s too much smoke, it’s not easy to tell from the air. Having eyes on the ground means the fire crews, such as myself, can be prepared to know what we’re going up against. If she thinks it’s necessary to see for herself, then it probably is.

“We won’t get called in unless it gets a good hold.” Truck’s pulling at his ear, his tell that he’s thinking. “Local crews will have it in hand. If they’re even needed.”

I nod. We don’t necessarily fight all the fires that burn. It can be nature’s way of controlling the environment, and if there’s no occupied structures to save—businesses or homes—and only a small fire, we’ll just check that it’s not likely to get out of control, and leave it to burn itself out, or at the most, try to stop it spreading further. But the weather conditions Nicole has reported will put everyone on high alert. If a fire takes hold, then being the nearest city-based crew, we’ll be called out under our mutual aid response agreement. Best not to be caught on the back foot when it comes to a blaze which has the potential to destroy lives. I shiver, hoping it doesn’t turn into something nasty. With the hot shot crews all in California, we could be short-handed on this one.

But there’s nothing to be done at the moment, and Nicole’s not stupid, she’ll take every precaution. All I can do is get on with my day. Knowing I can’t put it off, I place a call and find my friend Detective Grover is at the station today and arrange to go in and see him.

An hour and a half later, after a quick snack—well, a big-bodied man like Truck needs to be kept fuelled—I walk into the precinct, and nod at a few familiar faces I’ve met when cops attend a fire, and don’t have to wait long before I’m shown into an interview room. Hardly a minute passes before Grover walks in carrying a couple of steaming cups, kicking the door shut as he walks in.

He pauses when he sees Truck. “Sorry, I can get another. He nods at the drinks in his hands.

“I’m fine.” Truck leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other so his ankle rests on his knee. “I’m only here for moral support.”

“Not a witness?”

Truck shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“Ok.” As Grover sits, he pulls a notepad toward him. “What’s happened now, Darcy? You mentioned Mercer on the phone.”

I draw in a deep breath, and then go over everything once again. As I end my sorry tale I’m shaking. I’d rather put it behind me than keep going over it.

Grover’s taking it all in and making notes. I let him scribble it all down, then he looks up and taps his pen against his teeth. “You didn’t know the security system was monitored?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Could be seen as invasion of privacy.”

I put a stop to that fast. “And if it hadn’t been, you might have been dealing with a dead body today.” I wouldn’t have stopped fighting. How far would Pete have taken it? “Or at the very least, a woman who’d been raped.” My hand goes to the purple bruise on my swollen face. “As it was, I just got away with this.”

“Did they install cameras inside your house?”

“No, they did not.” I lean forwards, my fisted hands on the table. “Can we please get back to the real villain of the piece? Peter Mercer? It sounds to me like you’ve got a hard-on for the Satan’s Devils”

He at least has the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry, Darcy. But these are men who think they’re above the law. They at least live outside it.”

“They run their businesses legit.” Half of me wonders whether he’ll disclose information that says otherwise.

But he’s nodding. “Seems nowadays they do. But it wasn’t always that way. Okay, Darcy. I’m sorry, it runs deep with us that we don’t like gangs such as them. Now, getting back to Mercer. I’ll pull him back in and add on the attempted rape charge and assault from last night. And as long as your biker friends come forward as witnesses, this time he’s got no chance of getting bail, never mind who he knows.”

Truck uncrosses his legs and speaks for the first time. “Can you guarantee that? He got out pretty fast last time. She’s getting an emergency order of protection, but there’s nothing to say he won’t breach that.”

“Locked up is best,” I contribute. “Surely the court officer must see he’s likely to reoffend.”

Grover nods. “We’ll try and find him and pick him up today. If he’s no longer at the address that he gave us last time he was in, any idea where we might find him?”

I don’t. But knowing how angry Peg was that he’d hurt me, and was stopped while he was molesting me, a hospital is my best guess.

That thought I think it’s best to keep to myself.