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Page 7


  "Addison. Addison Lane.

  "Ms. Lane, tell me exactly what happened."

  "I'm not sure. I just got home from works and my…my house is on…fire. I don't know where my kids are." The woman choked back a sob.

  "Okay, Ms. Lane, I'm notifying Fire and Ambulance right now."

  Marcus typed in the code 69-D-6t―structure fire, residential single, with trapped people. He immediately paged emergency crews and dispatched fire and ambulance to the address.

  Behind him, Leo took over the radio work with the crews. "House fire," he heard Leo confirm. "Possible children inside."

  "Ms. Lane?" Marcus said. "Are you at the location now? Do you see flames or smoke?"

  "Both."

  "How many kids do you have, ma'am?"

  "Three. Amanda, James and Bryan."

  Marcus's fingers stumbled over the keyboard. "Ryan?"

  "Bryan."

  Marcus's heart slowed.

  "My babies!" The woman screamed.

  "Ms. Lane?"

  The line was muffled, but in the distance he heard sirens. Finally, the woman came back on the line.

  "My babies are okay," she said, weeping. "They were at the mall."

  "I'm glad to hear that."

  He talked to her until the emergency crews arrived.

  "Thank you," she said repeatedly.

  "You're very welcome."

  After he disconnected the call, Marcus realized his hands were shaking and his forehead was covered in a thick sheen of sweat. He took in a deep breath of air and released it slowly, doing his best to relax.

  A round of applause broke out in the center.

  "Well done," Leo said, patting Marcus on the shoulder.

  "What?"

  "You broke Titanic's dispatch record," Rudy called out from across the room.

  Rudolf Eisenhauer was a skinny man in his early forties. He'd moved from Germany to Canada about twenty years ago with his parents. All Marcus really knew about the man was that he had an IQ so high that no one could figure out why he hadn't been gobbled up by Microsoft or Donald Trump. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he rarely spoke unless asked something.

  Marcus frowned. "I broke Shipley's record?"

  Rudy nodded.

  "What was Shipley's time?"

  "Forty-eight seconds," Leo interjected. "From the beginning of the 911 call to the time Fire picked up his dispatch."

  Shipley poked his head out of his office. "What's going on?"

  Leo beamed him a smile. "Marcus broke your record."

  "Yeah, right."

  "Forty-six seconds," Leo said. "He shaved two seconds off your record."

  Shipley lumbered toward them, his face set in stone and his eyes trained on Marcus. "Is this right?"

  Marcus shrugged. "I guess. I wasn't really looking at the clock."

  "No," Leo said. "But I was."

  Shipley didn't crack a smile. "Any casualties?"

  "Not sure," Marcus said.

  "Don't celebrate until you do know."

  Shipley turned on one heel and was swallowed up by his office, the door closing behind him.

  "Forget about him," Leo said.

  "It's hard to forget about someone who's on a collision course with me." Marcus stood and stretched. "I need a coffee. Want one?"

  Leo nodded.

  In the break room, Marcus rinsed his mug. He filled it with fresh coffee and added extra cream and sugar. Leo took his coffee black. The thicker the sludge, the better.

  He returned to the cubicles as Leo was taking a call.

  "Heart attack," Leo mouthed, grabbing the mug from Marcus's hand. He took a gulp, wiped his mouth and said, "Sir, can I have your name please?"

  Marcus returned to his desk.

  The hours passed quickly. That's how it usually went when business was booming. And the night definitely boomed. Five hours into his shift, there were already two car accidents, one heart attack that ended up being a case of bad gas, two domestic disputes and the house fire.

  "Good God," Leo said, groaning. "What a night. Is there a full moon out?"

  "That's what sucks about this job. We either sit here for hours twiddling our thumbs, thankful that no one was hurt―"

  "Or we're bombarded by emergencies and don't have time to twiddle anything."

  Marcus nodded. "That about sums it up."

  "You know, you're starting to look like Grizzly Adams. You ever gonna shave?"

  Marcus stroked his bristly chin. "Why should I bother?"

  "You ain't gonna catch a lady looking like that," Leo said, eyes narrowing. "You look like you've got something to hide."

  "Maybe I do."

  Leo stood up and hiked his jeans over his bulging stomach. "It's time to stop hiding, Marcus. Get out. Go on a date."

  "A date. With who?"

  "I'd date you," Carol called out. "Except my partner might be pissed."

  "Gee, thanks, Carol." Marcus turned back to Leo. "You could at least wait until we're out of the office before talking about my personal life."

  "What personal life?"

  Leo was right. Ever since Jane's and Ryan's deaths, he spent his time either at work or at home wishing he was at work. He'd tried dating a half-dozen times. Some were even nice women. But none of them were Jane.

  "Sorry, man. I know it's tough on you. I hate seeing you so…alone."

  "Maybe I like being alone, Leo." He knew it was a lie as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

  "Listen, here's an idea…"

  Uh-oh. Whenever Leo had an idea, it usually ended up with Marcus passed out on a floor somewhere. It didn't happen often, but when it did, it usually meant trouble. With a capital T.

  "I'm not going bar hopping with you, Leo."

  "That's not what I had in mind." Pause. "However…"

  "No strip club either."

  Leo scowled. "You're no fun. But that wasn't my idea." His eyes gleamed. "We could set you up on one of those matchmaking sites. The online kind. You know, like that one they advertise on TV."

  "I'm not that desperate."

  One of Leo's brows arched.

  "Okay, maybe I am that desperate." Marcus shrugged. "It's not my thing."

  "So what is?"

  "I don't know. Something more…normal. You know, you meet someone at a bookstore or a coffee shop and start up a conversation."

  Leo snorted. "When's the last time you went to a bookstore? Or a Starbucks for that matter? You don't go anywhere."

  Thankfully the phone rang and Marcus was saved further humiliation. If there were a Starbucks in Edson, he didn't know where the place was located. And the fact that he hadn't been inside a bookstore in months would've proven Leo right. He didn't get out enough.

  While Leo took the call, Marcus stared up at the suspended ceiling tiles. He probably should make an effort to have a life. It was getting more and more difficult to recall the softness of Jane's skin and the musical tone of her voice. Or her laugh. And Ryan? Sometimes Marcus thought of him as a young child, sometimes as a teen.

  The fact was, Jane and Ryan were disappearing from his life. What would he do when they were gone completely? Sure, he'd always remember them, always love them. He'd never forget his wife and son. But that didn't mean he had to stay in limbo. He just wasn't sure how to get out.

  Getting out meant altering his life in ways he couldn't even begin to imagine. Change meant risk. Risk meant possible failure. He was deathly afraid of failure. It could send him crashing back to rock bottom. He had to prevent that at all cost.

  I feel so goddamned trapped.

  That feeling lingered with him for the rest of his shift.

  After his shift, he drove home, walked Arizona and wolfed down a roast beef sandwich with horseradish mayonnaise. Then he walked Arizona again and polished off Andrew Gross's latest thriller. Finally, he climbed into bed and tried to sleep.

  He kept thinking about the wooden box with the medical insignia on it. The one with the hypodermic needle inside
and a small vial of clear liquid. Why the hell had he kept them?

  Fight it, Marcus.

  He focused on his breath. In…out…in…out.

  "Daddy…"

  Ryan stood at the foot of his bed.

  Marcus swallowed. "Don't leave me."

  "Daddy?" Ryan held out a small hand, but as Marcus reached for it, his son began to fade. "I love you, Daddy."

  "Love—"

  But Ryan was already gone.

  Marcus got up, walked Arizona for the third time that evening, then settled on the couch for a long night of television.

  "Insomnia's a bitch," he muttered. He glanced at Arizona, who was already half asleep. "But what do you know about it, you lucky dog?"

  Chapter Eight

  Edmonton, AB – Friday, June 14, 2013 – 8:24 AM

  Friday morning, Rebecca dropped the kids off at school. They were hyped up on thoughts of their trip to Auntie Kelly's and already fighting over what they'd be doing. All Colton wanted to do was go swimming in the pool, while Ella wanted to pick wildflowers and play with the "Trips," as everyone called the triplets.

  Rebecca let out a happy sigh. "Vacation, here I come!"

  She'd taken the day off to get ready for the trip. She planned to drop the kids off at Kelly and Steve's after dinner and pick them up Monday afternoon. Then she'd have three nights in a B&B in Cadomin and two full days of relaxation.

  The thought of leaving the kids made her stomach churn, but she pushed aside her fear. Her sister and brother-in-law could handle anything that came up. Besides, she really needed some alone time.

  She glanced down at the checklist in her lap. Snacks for the drive. Coloring book and crayons for Ella. Gas for car. Laundry. Pack the kids' bags. Clean kitchen and house. Charge cell phones (pack charger). House key to Heidi next door, in case of emergency. Water the plants.

  She drove to the Save-On and picked up two bags of salt-and-vinegar chips, and two bottles each of green iced tea and cola. The drive to Cadomin was long, and she'd need the distractions of snacks.

  Next, she stopped off at Wal-Mart and picked out a Sleeping Beauty coloring book and a large box of glitter crayons. They would keep Ella well occupied and out of Kelly's hair, especially while the Trips were napping. It would help keep her calm too—less chance of an asthma attack.

  Rebecca gasped, then scribbled PUFF! on her list. How could she forget?

  The last time they'd driven a long distance and forgotten Puff, it had almost ended in tragedy. Since Wesley refused to go, she'd driven to Calgary with the kids to see her father, who was in the hospital, recuperating from a triple bypass. The surgery hadn't gone well. The doctor stated that there were a multitude of complications. For a while it looked like her father might not make it. That thought had eaten at Rebecca for days. She and her father had unresolved issues. Being an adult child of divorce didn't make it hurt any less.

  The drive back from Calgary had started off uneventful. They were about forty minutes away when Ella started coughing in the back seat.

  "Can you take care of it, Colton?"

  Like usual, her son balked at the extra responsibility. "Ella knows what to do, Mom."

  "Help her."

  With an exaggerated sigh, Colton dug around in Ella's backpack. "Puff's not here, Mom."

  "What do you mean, Puff's not there?"

  Colton dumped the contents of the bag on the seat.

  "Mommy, I can't breathe," Ella cried.

  Rebecca's heart raced as she signaled to pull off the busy highway. "Try to take a slow, deep breath."

  The coughing from the back seat grew hoarse. Then the wheezing started.

  "Mom?" Colton said, his voice scared. "It's not in her bag."

  Rebecca eased onto the shoulder, parked the car and jumped out. When she opened the back door, she nearly fainted at the sight of Ella's gray face and hollow eyes.

  "Oh, Jesus." She shoved aside the assortment of barrettes and markers from Ella's open backpack. Then she checked the floor of the car. Nothing.

  Ella gasped. "I…can't…breathe."

  Rebecca ripped off her daughter's seat belt and gathered her in her arms.

  "Found it!" Colton shouted. He held up the inhaler.

  "Thank God." Rebecca released a panicked breath.

  Minutes later, Ella's asthma attack receded, and the color returned to her cheeks. "I was sitting on Puff," she said, oblivious to Rebecca's fear.

  Rebecca had kept her eye on Ella all the way home. It had been a long drive.

  "We don't want a repeat of that," she muttered now as she took a detour to the pharmacy.

  Get refill of Puff, she mentally added to her list.

  A half hour later, with the extra inhaler safely tucked in the glove compartment of the car, Rebecca drove home and unpacked the travel supplies. She threw a load of laundry into the washing machine. In Ella's room, she stacked folded socks and underwear on the Barbie comforter. Ella would want to pick out her own outfits.

  Rebecca meandered down to the basement. It was her least favorite place in the old home, and she made a point of avoiding it when she could. With its stale air and unfinished walls and ceiling, the dingy basement was the catch-all for everything they couldn't fit elsewhere.

  She wove through the piles of boxes and bins until she found the luggage set her mother had given her when she'd married Wes. Had this been her mother's subtle way of saying Rebecca's marriage wouldn't last?

  She heaved the luggage up the stairs, then inhaled deeply. "I want a new house. With a finished basement."

  Wesley always said she was a dreamer.

  The phone rang, and she picked it up. "Hello?"

  "I'm glad I caught you," Kelly said, panting as if she'd run a marathon.

  Rebecca's heart sank. "Uh-oh. What's wrong?"

  "Measles."

  "Which one?"

  "All of them. The Trips."

  "Oh God, Kelly."

  Her sister tried to laugh. "I know. It doesn't rain here. It pours."

  Rebecca glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink. "I have to pick up the kids soon."

  "That's why I'm calling. I really hate to do this, but with three kids with the measles―"

  "Kel, don't worry about it. I wouldn't expect you to take Ella and Colton now. Besides, Ella hasn't had the measles."

  "I remembered that. That's why I wanted you to know." Kelly paused. "So what'll you do? Mom can't take them. She's in Yuma."

  Rebecca groaned. "I'll think of something."

  "I'm so sorry, Sis."

  "No worries. If worse comes to worst, I'll take them with me."

  She sure as hell wasn't leaving them with Wesley.

  "That's what I thought you might do," Kelly said. "I know Wesley is a no-go."

  Kelly always could read her mind. They might as well have been twins for the connection they shared.

  "You worry about the Trips," Rebecca said. "I'll have no problems adjusting my plans. The hotel can always add a cot."

  Kelly snickered. "I guess it's a good thing you weren't planning a romantic getaway with a handsome stranger."

  "Yeah, I guess."

  The thought made Rebecca sad. She missed having someone to snuggle up to at night. She missed having someone to talk to, share her day with. Sure, she had the kids, but it wasn't the same.

  "One day a handsome stranger will sweep you off your feet," Kelly said.

  Rebecca laughed. "I see you're still living in fantasy land."

  "Always, Sis. Fantasies make the world go 'round."

  After they hung up, Rebecca stared at the small bag of snacks she'd purchased. She'd need a few more if Ella and Colton were coming with her.

  On the way to her bedroom, she passed the hallway mirror. Pausing, she stared into it and thought about her sister's words.

  If a handsome stranger were going to make an appearance, she hoped to God it was on a day when she'd had time to shower and brush her hair.

  Today wasn't that day.
/>   After a late lunch, she finished the laundry. Then she went to work on packing clothes for the trip, including a sleek black dress she hadn't worn in over a year.

  "In case I meet that handsome stranger," she murmured.

  This made her laugh. She was going to Cadomin, a town so small that if you blinked you'd drive right past it. "Yeah. What are the odds?"

  Catching sight of her cell phone charger on the nightstand, she unplugged it from the wall. Suitcase or purse? With a shrug, she tossed it in the suitcase. Her phone had more than enough battery power to last the trip. Anyway, she had a car charger in the glove compartment, though she'd never used it.

  She headed downstairs and spent the next half hour preparing snacks for the road. She'd have the kids pack them in their backpacks, and she'd keep a small cooler up front.

  "Ah, water bottles."

  They usually kept a case of bottled water in the refrigerator in the garage, but when she opened the fridge door, she found the plastic and cardboard wrapping for the case and no water.

  "Great."

  She glanced at her watch. It was time to pick up the kids. She'd stop at the store on the way home, all the while dreaming of the perfect vacation—the peace, the freedom, no stress.

  By six o'clock that evening all hell had broken loose. Ella had dissolved into temper-tantrum mode because she couldn't bring her bike on the trip, and Colton was busy in his room sulking because he had to finish all his homework before they left.

  "I don't get why I can't do it there," he yelled down the stairs.

  Because we both know you'll get distracted as soon as you step out of the car. "Colton, just get it done, please."

  Her patience was wearing thin. She released a sigh of frustration. This wasn't how she wanted to start their weekend getaway.

  Chapter Nine

  Edson, AB – Friday, June 14, 2013 – 2:05 PM

  "Looks like today's going to be a slow one," Marcus said.

  Leo hovered over his shoulder. "Slow is always good in our line of work."

  "Yeah, it is." Marcus sighed.

  It was days like this that made him yearn for the adrenaline rush of the old days. When he was a paramedic, he never knew what to expect. Every call was different. Different people, places, conditions, traumas. As soon as the alert would sound, his entire body would speed into overdrive.