A Firefighter in the Family. Trish Milburn
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She stepped off the sidewalk where several current Horizon Beach residents and visitors stood speculating about the midnight blaze that had consumed the building.
“Come on, Thor.” Her giant black Labrador retriever—one part fire dog, one part best friend—fell into step beside her as she headed for the burned-out shell of the once nearly completed Horizon Vista Resort.
A young fireman stepped out from where he’d been talking to a man in street clothes. “Ma’am, you can’t come in here.”
She slipped her ID from her pocket. “I’m Randi Cooke with the state fire marshal’s office.”
He examined the identification card. “You must be—”
“Yeah. Sister to half your department.” And daughter of the former chief, and granddaughter to the chief before that.
“Eric and Will are still here.” He pointed toward a fire engine, and she saw Will retrieving a tangle of hoses.
She inhaled deeply, but instead of fortifying her for a meeting with her oldest brother, it only filled her nostrils with the scent of ashes. She exhaled through her nose, trying to banish the heavy, choking smell. “Thank you.”
Randi headed for the engine. Her nerves jangled, and the muscles in her shoulders tightened despite her internal monologue to stay calm and professional, as she always was at a fire scene. Will looked her way. Though he should have been expecting her, the widening of his eyes indicated he was surprised to see her.
He’d shucked most of his turnout gear, but the boots, flame-retardant bunker pants and suspenders remained. His blond hair poked out in half a dozen directions from sweat and his helmet.
“Hey, Will.”
“Randi. When did you get here?”
She tried to ignore the coolness in his voice, but knowing the reason behind it made that task impossible. “A few minutes ago. Looks like you had a busy night.”
“Yeah. Had to call in help from Fort Walton. Place was fully engulfed when we arrived. Went up like it was made of paper.” His words came out mechanically, as if he were writing a report—or talking to a stranger.
“Any clue what happened?”
“No. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s arson.”
“What makes you say that?”
He pointed toward the rubble. “The only people happy about this place were the tourism bureau, the tax assessor and the builder.”
“Jack didn’t mention arson.”
Will glanced toward the older man. “Hell, the old coot probably slept through half the fire. He wasn’t on duty, so the guys from Fort Walton got here before he did.”
“He should retire.”
Will sighed. Obviously this topic had been broached many times. “Too stubborn, even though he’s not as fast or strong as he used to be.”
She hoped Jack would change his mind about retirement before he or someone else got hurt. But that thought brought back memories she’d rather not explore.
“So, who’s the owner?”
He exhaled. “Guy named Bud Oldham from Tampa.” Will frowned, and his fair complexion grew pinker than when he’d spotted her.
They’d already spoken more this morning than they had in the past two years combined. Of course, not all of that was Will’s fault. Still, her job required digging for information. “Oldham around during the fire?”
“Hell, I don’t know.” He pitched his gloves into the truck. “I was too busy to canvass the crowd.” He stalked alongside the engine and slammed two equipment doors.
Randi’s jaw clenched, but she forced her muscles to relax. Forced herself to remember that she’d driven this wedge herself and she had to live with it. “I’m just doing my job, Will.”
She tugged gently on Thor’s leash, needing to immerse herself in work so she’d forget why the oldest of the Cooke siblings would never forgive her. Why being the baby of the family and a girl had sent her fleeing from her once-loving home. How one mistake could change so many lives.
As she sloshed through the mucky sand caused by the rush of water from the hoses the night before, she spotted Eric headed toward her. Soot darkened his pale skin, and he sported a hairstyle like his older brother’s. She remembered that sweaty, itchy feeling and resisted the urge to scratch her scalp. In contrast to Will, the youngest of her four older brothers smiled at her.
“Hey, sis. I wondered if they’d send you to work this one.” Eric reached down and rubbed Thor’s head between his ears, earning a yip of greeting in response.
“Yeah, Steve’s daughter is getting married today.” Her boss had been in a tizzy all week, alternating between telling everyone how beautiful a bride his daughter was going to be and cursing how much the wedding was costing him.
“And you’re missing it?”
“I’m never glad for a fire, but I can’t say I’m heartbroken to miss La Prima Donna’s nuptials.”
Eric laughed, but his expression changed when he glanced over her shoulder. “Will looks like he’s ready to bite the head off an alligator.”
“Yeah, well, some things never change.” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice but wasn’t successful.
“You two at it already?”
“No, I walked away.”
“It’s been nearly three years. Are you guys ever going to talk about what happened?”
Randi sighed. “I tried. Besides, he’s right.” As much as it made her heart ache to admit it.
“It was an accident. It wasn’t—”
She stopped Eric with a quick, cutting hand gesture. “Let’s focus on figuring out what happened here. Any ideas?”
Randi retreated into her job, quizzing her brother about the fire and the building’s owner.
“Eric, come on, we got work to do.” Will’s voice wasn’t that of an older brother, but rather a superior officer.
“Coming.” Eric looked back at her. “You’ll be around?”
“Yeah.” She scanned the rubble. “Looks like this might take a while.”
“You staying at Mom and Dad’s?” He always asked the question, even though the answer never changed.
“No. I’ll get a room.” She ignored the sad look in Eric’s blue eyes.
“I’ll call you on your cell then. We’ll grab a bite.”
“Eric!” Will sounded more irritated.
“Go on before he really gets his drawers in a wad.” She smiled, trying to make light of the situation.
Taking a chance at angering their older brother, Eric leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’d hug you but I’m pretty rank at the moment.”
“Thanks for keeping your sweat to yourself.”
He smiled again, his white teeth standing out against his blackened face. “Catch ya later.” He slogged through the mud in his splattered boots, and she remembered when they’d been kids, running through puddles after a fast-moving coastal rain.
“Let’s get to it,” she said to Thor as she stirred the ash. He began sniffing the remains of the building, searching for accelerant.
When the breeze shifted and replaced the scent of char with the freshness of the ocean, Randi breathed deeply and closed her eyes, remembering how she used to crawl up onto her parents’ roof to soak in the