Marty
Man, I felt fine. Reborn. Jesus, who knew a night of sex could make sleep so deep and renewing. I woke up more than hard and horny. Someplace during the night, a page in my story had turned from bleak to bliss and I wanted more.
I couldn’t quite get a fix on where Holly stood in this whole thing, but I wanted to move into her life as well as her house. In bed, there was no denying we fit. Whether she’d think the same thing over the breakfast table was another matter.
She dressed and escaped the bedroom while I fetched my shaving kit, returning from my rented room to the intimacy of her en suite. I wanted her to invite me to share this room with her, not glide back and forth from her bed to my bed after we’d fucked.
“Careful, boyo,” I muttered to my face in the mirror. “You’re getting in deep.”
The aroma of bacon frying ended my mirror musing and I hustled downstairs and into the kitchen. She’d switched on some music and it played a soft background as she danced in front of the stove, turning the bacon in one skillet, then flipping a pancake in the other.
“Looks like serious cooking going on in here. Need any help?” I asked ambling up to pat her ass and peer over her shoulder.
She turned her head and said, “Nope, I’ve got this.”
I caught her lips in a kiss, then disengaged and said, “Call me when it’s ready,” and headed out the backdoor. I wanted to sit in the three-seater and spend a mellow morning contemplating everything good that was happening.
My plans changed rapidly. The swing had been trashed, the wooden slats broken as if someone had taken an axe to it. It sagged in the middle, held together by one skeletal back section.
I swept my gaze over the terrain, looking for the asshole responsible. Long gone. My gaze fell on Holly’s flowers once growing at the other end of the yard. Red spray-painted letters spelled foul words and stained the fence that separated her yard from the neighbor’s.
“What’s wrong,” she called from the back step.
“Don’t come out here, yet, sweet cheeks. Let me do a little clean…” Too late. She jogged across the yard to stand beside me. I don’t think she’d even noticed the swing.
“My flowers,” she shrieked, falling on her knees in front of the dying plants. They’d been pulled from the ground, shredded, then stomped to bits under someone’s foot.
She sat on her heels, gazing at the crude words on the fence, before her glance moved to the swing.
“Who would do such a thing?” she asked, staring up at me in shock.
“When was the last time you looked out here and knew the backyard was normal?” I asked.
She frowned then answered. “It was fine yesterday when I got ready to go out with the girls. Garret sat out here in the swing while Megan and I piddled inside waiting for Harley-Jane.”
I pulled out my phone and called Garret. It took him a while to answer and when he did, he didn’t sound happy to hear from me. Nor did he sound alone.
“Quick question,” I said, before he could start bitching. “When you were in Holly’s backyard yesterday, did you see anything wrong?”
“No. What kind of wrong?”
“Swing was all in one piece? Flowers were still in the ground? No paint splashed in ugly words all over her fence?”
“Shit no,” he answered, coming fully alert. “Someone vandalized her backyard?”
“Yep. Just trying to figure out when.”
Holly must have been doing some thinking while she eavesdropped on my conversation with Garret. When I hung up, she was ready to talk.
“The window over the sink gives me a view of the whole yard. The swing was all in one piece when we were doing the dishes last night, and there were no disgusting words on my fence.”
I was pleased to see Holly was more angry than shocked.
“Should I report it to the police?” she wondered out loud.
“Probably should,” I agreed. “I’ll walk over to the neighbor that shares that fence line and see if he heard or saw anything last night.”
Holly gave me an odd look and shook her head. “Unless it sold yesterday, that house over there is empty.”
I thought about the old geezer leaning over the fence, asking questions. I hadn’t really paid attention to his appearance. He’d dressed like an old man, and I remember a floppy hat that shaded his features so much, I couldn’t really picture anything but the hat itself.
I called the local PPD and reported the vandalism. Two officers in a cruiser arrived shortly and took pictures. I’d already taken my own for insurance purposes.
Holly
I was stunned more than anything else. I guess if I’d been alone, I might have reacted differently, as in I might have been scared spitless. But shortly after Marty’s call to Garret and then the Pittsburgh Police Dept., members of the Smoke, Inc. crew began to arrive. The police came and left. They said I could come to the station to sign the report when they got it ready. That worked for me.
Before I’d really figured out what to do with the mess, the crew were already rebuilding the place. Roger and Garret showed up and immediately made the swing their personal project. I was distracted from my drama by the interesting dynamics between the two. I tried to catch Roger’s eye several times, so I could get the inside scoop on his Garret adventure. But he laughed at me and ignored my non-subtle hints.
Jack fussed over the existing flower bed, took measurements, then came to stand beside me.
“Those were some pretty flowers growing there. Most of them will come back. But I’m thinking I could add a fountain inside the bed itself, give you a light feature and the sound of running water.” He scratched his jaw and studied the broken flower bed before drawling, “While I’m doing it, I might as well add some low lighting back there along the fence.”
Marty, who’d taken a wire brush to said fence and had most of the red filth scrubbed off as soon as the police left, was currently repainting it. Megan arrived with Teague followed by Harley-Jane and Cowboy. When Elaine carried boxes of donuts to the backyard my stomach growled, and I remembered the pancake breakfast I’d abandoned in progress.
Teague and Cowboy huddled with Marty a moment then left my yard to walk to the house next door.
I retreated to the porch steps where I sat watching.
“Hate what happened to your place, but hey,” Harley-Jane observed, “it’s amazing what a crew can do in one day.”
“You’ve got that right.” I felt as if I’d tuned into a TV segment of Fixer-Upper or This-Old-House.
Part of me wanted to retreat to my closet where I could think about what had happened. But a bigger part of me wanted to participate in the backyard party that evolved. Church arrived, boxes of food in hand and set up Marty’s new grill.
Marty finished the fence and brought the H/K outside to add music to the event.
“It seems more like fun than a disaster,” I told him when he slung his arm around my shoulders and ask me how I felt.
“That’s exactly what we want it to be,” he said. “And if the fucker who did this is watching, we’re thumbing our noses at him while we find out his name.”
“Are we doing that?” I asked, impressed.
“Already on it babe. Nobody is doing this to your backyard and getting away with it.”
Looking at the smoldering anger beneath his pleasant expression, I believed him. I wasn’t certain if he’d factored in the police inquiry, but from the way the two officers had listened to Marty, I felt comfortable that he’d coordinated the search on all fronts.
It didn’t escape me, that instead of the basket case hiding in my closet for unknown days, I was sitting on the back step, basking in the sun, and admiring my new swing. Marty was good for me.
“Holly, come over here and test this for us,” Garret yelled.
I hustled that way, ready to change my position in the sun, as well as maybe get chat time with Roger.
Marty blocked my access to the swing which had turned out to be far superior to the original aging version. With my permission, they’d constructed a canopy over it with open walls on each end.
“Hell no, you’re not risking yourself on a job that has no safety and security clearance. Church, get over here.”
I devolved into a fit of giggles as the two giants plopped down none too gently, bounced up and down testing the chain strength, ease of use, and comfort potential.
“Needs a set of cushions,” Church announced as he shoved off, stretching his big frame, getting comfortable, before slinging his arm around Marty’s shoulders to slap him in the head. “Lift your feet, dummy. Have you forgotten how to swing?”
“You’ve served your purpose, here. Move your ass back to your grill and let Holly sit down,” Marty growled.
“I’ve got a surprise coming for you,” Church said and grinned, lumbering up from the swing. He didn’t elaborate on what the surprise was.
I took his seat next to Marty and he wasted no time throwing his arm around me. Then he kissed me on the top of my head. “Feeling okay?” he asked, nudging the swing into a rocking motion.
How did I feel? Truthfully, I wanted to crawl into his lap and escape into sleep. I don’t do drama well.
“Good job you two,” Marty said to Garret and Roger. Garret gave him a thumb’s up, Roger winked at me, and they ambled off together, toward the food.
I’m not good at describing things, but to my mind it seemed like I’d just had a huge upgrade without losing the flavor of what once was. I felt certain that Grandma would have liked Jack’s fountain which turned into a cascading waterfall.
“I don’t know how I feel,” I answered him. “Confused? Unnerved? Vulnerable?”
“Yep. That fucker fouled the yard while we were asleep. And I didn’t hear a thing. That will not happen again.”
Oh yeah, Marty was more than mad. The yard itself was still a hub of activity. Marty’s crew had used the existing trees to install motion sensor lights. The back fence had been strengthened, Jack’s low lights were enhanced by staggered lantern lights on poles.
“When Eazy gets here, there won’t be any house security issues, either,” he announced.
“How many rent checks is this costing me?” I wasn’t about to protest the offer of built in home protection. But I didn’t want him to lose sight of the fact I was boss of what happened to my house. And I would pay for any upgrades. Maybe over a long period.
“Is E.Z. part of your crew?”
“Nah, he’s a farmer.”
“What’s E.Z. stand for and why’s he coming?”
“Ezekiel. Eazy’s a hell of a lot easier to remember. He’s a licensed electrician. So, he’s going to supervise the wiring of your new home security system.”
“I thought you said he’s a farmer. And stop pushing this stuff at me. I can’t afford…”
His mouth flattened into a grim line and he silently dared me to continue. Okay, maybe there’s a low interest plan.
I forgot all about the interior home upgrades taking place after Eazy arrived, wearing work boots, tool belt, flannel shirt and jeans. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone dress the part of country, better.
“Howdy, Church,” he drew the words, slowly, looking around as if to size the place up before he continued into the yard. When he spoke, I could hear him, though he didn’t seem to be projecting to anyone but Church.
Church escorted Eazy to the swing, grinning ear to ear as he talked. “Want you to meet Marty’s woman. I’m hoping Gertie will—” Eazy interrupted Church with what sounded like, a reminder.
“Ain’t no influencing her, you know. Gertie decides what’s what. I’m just here to wire the place.”
Gertie, Church’s promised surprise, was a hundred pound (at least) white coated, Great Pyrenees guardian dog.
“She’s beautiful,” I breathed, leaning out of the swing for a closer view. Before the end of Eazy’s visit, he’d installed the security system and apparently, I would be hosting a guardian dog for an unspecified length of time.
I’d never owned a dog, or had a pet. When I expressed my concern to Gertie’s owner, he shook his head.
“She’s here on a job. She knows that. Feed her the mix I’m leaving, give her a scratch on the head for praise when you think of it. She’s taken to you. You’ll get along fine.”
“Is she supposed to sleep in the house with me?” What the fuck did I know about hosting a canine?
“No, ma’am. If you want to let her in during the day, especially if it turns hot, that’s fine. But at night, she’ll be outback on guard duty. Any problem comes visiting here again, Gertie will bite its head off.”
I better understood the rushed security upgrades later in the afternoon, when Marty explained he and the crew were only here for a short break, and would be flying back to the west coast fires early the next morning.
I wanted to cry, but I sucked it up. He was a firefighter. Among other things, that’s what he did. I thought about their discreet, advertising tagline. If it’s dangerous, let us do it for you…
Whether I learned to live with Smoke, Incorporated’s hazardous assignments or not, Marty wouldn’t be abandoning his company or line of work to hold my hand.
Marty
Dammit, I did not want to leave Holly so soon. Or at all. My feelings for her seemed to be growing faster than I could get a handle on them. Shit. I was so caught up in worrying about everything at home, it was torture blocking it all out once we hit the fire zone.
Before I’d taken off, we’d discussed the incident and I’d asked her if she’d had anything else happen recently.
“You know,” she’d admitted. “I think it’s been going on a while. Maybe since I met you.”
She’d looked at me, not with suspicion, but dawning awareness. “I left my purse, holding my phone and money in the taxi the night of the dance. That’s why I borrowed cab fare from you. They returned the purse and phone to me the next day. The money was still there, and everything looked fine.”
“Who dropped it off?”
“I don’t know. It was just waiting there on my porch when I went out to get my paper that morning.”
“But then, I got some weird calls asking to speak to Marilyn. After the second or third wrong number, I got a new number. I thought that had taken care of the problem.”
“Don’t forget the van that almost clipped you,” I reminded her. “And the shelving that collapsed the morning you were supposed to be in that area of Humble Homes.”
“And I quit walking to the store in the evening when I got a creepy feeling someone was following me.”
Christ, by the time I got done lining up all the probably incidents that we’d ignored, it appeared Holly might have acquired a stalker the night of the dance.
I’d asked for specifics, but she had no idea who. Nor could she describe the van that had almost run over her, and she had only a vague notion of how her phone had been returned.
“I think it was a courier service. They left it on my front porch, next to the door, in a gift bag. At the time I had you and the dance on my mind, and I didn’t think about the method of returning the phone. Now it’s seems kind of hinky.”
I called Mel’s Cab Company and inquired about their delivery system for lost items.
“What the hell?” Mel himself answered. “You expect us to underwrite the cost of returning packages to people too stupid to hang onto their valuables? Fuck that.”
I’d assured him that as I was also a business man, I understood completely. Then, as a peace offering, and after guaranteeing we’d refer all customers to their cab line when we had out of towners visiting, I managed to coax the owner into giving me gold.
“I had night duty, answering the phones that date,” he confessed. “Crappy roads, icy conditions and not much going on. So yeah, I remember. I watched you and Marilyn on television raising money in that dance-a-thon. That’s why I remember her call.”
“Who organized her phone delivery the next day?”
“Nobody from here. According to our records, we turned it over to her brother who came in to pick it up.”
I wasted no time calling Jack and gave him pertinent dates. “Hack still owes that favor. Holly changed her number a while ago. See if he can trace the old number and see who called her on those dates after the dance-a-thon. Then have him track it back to the caller’s address.” I planned to visit the sonofabitch and put the fear of me in him.
But, I couldn’t linger in Pittsburgh to help the investigation along. The west coast situation had worsened. With no rain in the forecast and an already dry spring, local areas were trying to control outbreaks as they occurred, and we’d been offered a healthy contract to return.
Besides the money, Harley-Jane’s brother was a member of a west coast Hotshot crew. Cowboy was all about giving them back-up too, if they needed it. We were leaving, and we’d be gone a spell. I hated it. But, there was no point in pretending it wasn’t so. If Holly and I were going to have any kind of a life together, she’d have to get use to the risk factor in my business.
It made it damned hard for me to convince her to stay home from her waitress job. When I said it was too risky, she said, “Right, carrying a tray from the bar to the table is scary shit. But you, chopping wood in a burning forest, is a piece of cake.”
I ignored her logic and explained my concern. “You have to go out, and once you’re there, you have to come home. Both points of vulnerability.”
“Jack will be with me, you know it as well as I do. I couldn’t shake him off if I tried.”
I didn’t so much give in as much as get run over. There was no way in hell she would call off work. I didn’t like it. But I admitted I might be overacting a bit. Still, I called Hack and ask him to hurry up and locate the guy. I didn’t like knowing there was a predator stalking Holly and I wasn’t home to protect her.