Spontaneous Combustion Read online

  He frowned and shook his head. “There have to be combustibles involved for it to go up this way. You gave me a scare. I was thinking I’d have to send a crew back in after you when I saw you come around the corner.”

  “I’m fine, Chief. Just catching my breath. The dog was trapped under a collapsed timber—his back leg’s crushed pretty bad.”

  “Poor old fellow.” Dan stroked the dog’s head. “Gonna have to call you Salvage, getting rescued out of a blaze like that.” He turned back to Shannon. “Anybody else still inside there, you figure? Vagrants? More animals?”

  Shannon shook her head. “Not that I could see. Unless the guy that brought us out went back in.” She coughed again, and when she got her breath back she said, “Who was he, Chief? That big guy in the silver who brought us out?”

  Dan shrugged and shook his head. “No idea. I didn’t see anybody like that.” He frowned and gave her a speculative look. “You stay here, O’Shea. Take it easy. I’m going for a paramedic, get him to look at you and the dog.”

  In another moment, the medic was beside Shannon. She assured him she was fine, that she’d inhaled only a small whiff of smoke. She motioned to the dog. “Can you help my friend, here? He’s the one in bad shape.”

  “Sure can. I’ll stabilize that leg, but he’s going to need to see a vet. Want me to drop him off somewhere for you? We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. The driver won’t mind a canine patient.”

  “Could you take him to the Courage Bay Veterinary Clinic?”

  “Sure, I know where that is.”

  This was one of the advantages of living in a relatively small city. Given Courage Bay’s population of only eighty-five thousand, the medical services personnel didn’t need directions to most locations.

  “One of the vets there is Lisa Malloy—she’s a friend of mine,” Shannon added. “Tell her to fix this guy up for me. I’ll call later and find out how he’s doing. Right now I’ve got to get back to work.”

  Once the main body of the fire was extinguished, it was the job of the truckies to do demolition with axes and saws, to make absolutely certain the blaze wouldn’t reignite.

  The work was physically demanding. It involved knocking out walls, tearing down ceilings. It took a while before the fire was under control, and by the time Shannon and the rest of the crew started their job, a lot of the smoke had cleared. The warehouse was fairly open inside, and the job was soon completed.

  As she worked, Shannon asked one person after the other, “Where’s the guy in the silver? Did you see the big guy in the silver?” It was becoming an obsession. She had to find him, let him know how grateful she was—and also try to convince him she wasn’t a total idiot, that she actually had some experience under her belt.

  The answer was always the same. “I didn’t see any guy in a silver.”

  Or, “A silver? Where the hell would anybody get one of those babies?”

  And the responses were more often than not accompanied by a look that suggested maybe she was having a delusionary episode.

  Shannon felt mystified, but she was also losing patience fast. How could anyone miss him? He’d been a good six feet five, and strong as a bull. She could still feel his fingers, like iron clamps inside his glove, hooked around her wrist. His arm had been a rigid length of sheer muscle looped around her waist as he’d pulled her through the smoke and out that side door.

  On the way back to the station, Shannon tried again. “C’mon, you guys, where’d the guy in the silver go? Somebody has to have seen him, right?”

  All she got were blank looks and a chorus of denials.

  “I didn’t see anybody wearing a silver.”

  “Why would anybody have one of those rigs at a warehouse fire, anyhow? There weren’t any chemicals around.”

  “There was nobody like that—you’re hallucinating, O’Shea. Smoke’s gone to your brain.”

  “Yes, there was,” she insisted. “I lost track of the line, and this huge guy in a silver brought me out, me and the dog.”

  Louie grinned. “You sure you weren’t fantasizing, O’Shea? Was he riding a big white stallion? I’ve heard of white knights, but never a silver one.”

  The guys laughed and teased her, and Shannon didn’t mention it again.

  Back at the station, she showered and gulped down four aspirin to ward off the smoke headache that was thumping in her skull, a result of carbon monoxide fumes she’d taken in.

  One of the probies had made a huge pot of stew for dinner, and she was ravenous. The twenty-four-hour shift meant that she wouldn’t be off until six the following morning. It was late by the time dinner was over, but it was also quiet. Before she went up to bed, she called Lisa’s cell number to check on the dog.

  “Hey, Shannon, that black Lab’s leg was too damaged to save. I had to amputate, which is how come I’m still at work. I wanted to make certain he came out of the anaesthetic okay. He seems to be doing great, so I’m heading home soon. You okay? The shape the Lab was in, I couldn’t help but worry about you.”

  “I’m okay, just tired. I’m really sorry about his leg. I knew it looked pretty bad.”

  “Where’d you find him? The medic that dropped him off was in a hurry. I didn’t get much out of him except that you were still at the fire and you were sending the dog to me for repairs.”

  “That old warehouse on State Street burned. Nobody got hurt except the poor old dog. A beam fell on his leg—that’s how it got crushed like that.”

  “Fire and falling beams—gee, I’m glad to hear you weren’t in any real danger,” Lisa said. “So tell me exactly what happened. You went in to rescue the dog?”

  Shannon filled Lisa in on the details of the fire. “The Lab was trapped, and the beam weighed a ton,” she explained. “I managed to heave it off him, but by then the fire had us pretty much surrounded.” Just thinking about it sent a cold shudder up and down her spine. “I can tell you, I was praying really hard. And then the weirdest thing happened, Lise. This guy came along and hauled us both out—some huge guy in a silver suit, with arms like a couple of anvils.”

  “A giant in a silver suit saved you? Who was he?”

  “That’s the spooky part. Nobody seems to know.”

  “What kind of silver suit was he wearing?”

  Shannon explained about the suits being unusual and rare. “I asked around, but nobody seems to have noticed him except me. What I can’t figure out is how anybody could miss a giant wrapped in aluminum foil, hauling a six-foot woman and a black Lab out of a burning building. There were photographers there, for gosh sakes. Surely someone must have gotten a picture of him. He wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

  Lisa was quiet for a minute. “Obviously the guy was an angel, Shannon.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Well, you said you were praying. And along comes somebody larger than life, wearing silver clothing, who saves you from disaster. Sounds to me like he must have been a visitor from the Other Side.”

  “So why would an angel need protective clothing, Lise? Tell me that.”

  Lisa giggled. “Beats me. You got a better explanation?”

  “Actually, no. But I’m sure not gonna pass yours on to the guys. They’ve already given me a bad enough time about this. If I produce the angel theory, they’ll declare me officially loopy.”

  “Loopy or not, be glad the angel came along. And while we’re on the subject of angels,” Lisa said, “how’s Linda feeling? Is she still upchucking 24/7?”

  Shannon’s oldest brother, Sean, and his wife, Linda, had recently learned they were pregnant, which accounted for the persistent stomach flu Linda had endured before, during and every day since their wedding six weeks ago. It was impossible to keep a secret in the O’Shea family, and everyone was overjoyed at the news, but no one was more thrilled and proud than Sean. He grinned his way through all the good-natured teasing from his family and the crew at the firehouse, and Shannon thought she’d never seen him this happy.

  �
��Is she showing yet?”

  “Hardly. She figures she’s barely two months along.”

  “I’ll bet you’ll hardly be able to tell, even when she’s full term,” Lisa said. “Me, I’ll sprout a gut the size of the Goodyear blimp. You long, lean women have way more room for expansion than us vertically challenged ones.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not about to test your theory quite yet. Before I get pregnant, it would be nice to find a partner. Sometimes I think I missed the bus that’s heading for happily ever after. I can only hope it comes by again before I’m forty.”

  “So you’ve got twelve good years left, don’t sweat it.”

  “I’m not, but my mom’s getting a little antsy.”

  “I’ll bet she’s excited about being a grandma again.”

  “Excited doesn’t half cover it. She adores my brother Patrick’s two kids, but she’s over the moon at the prospect of a new baby to cuddle. She’s been so consumed since she found out about Linda’s pregnancy, I haven’t had a single lecture about the advantages in finding another line of work.”

  “She still hasn’t accepted that being a firefighter is what you want to be when you grow up?”

  “I doubt she ever will. She’s a worrier, my mother.”

  The fights she’d had with Mary O’Shea when she’d first mentioned becoming a firefighter still bothered Shannon. She had two brothers, both older, and as the only girl in the family, Shannon had found her mother to be her staunchest ally, her best friend, her confidante. It hurt to have her withdraw that support, to know her mother had never accepted her choice of career.

  “Worrying is a mother’s job,” Lisa said.

  “Yeah. I guess. There should be an expiration date, though, I’ve been a firefighter for a while now—you’d think she’d get over it. Anyhow, the prospect of this baby coming has taken a lot of the heat off me. Mom’s already buying baby clothes. Linda says by the time it finally arrives, she’s gonna have to get Sean to build on a separate wing just to hold the baby’s wardrobe.”

  Lisa laughed. “Well, if it’s a girl, she can never have too many clothes.”

  “Goes right along with being too rich or too thin. Guess I strike out on all three counts.”

  “Can’t comment on the money part, but have you looked in a mirror lately? You’ve got gorgeous going for you, O’Shea. You don’t need clothes or money or diets. I’d kill for your cheekbones. And then there’s that winning combo of black hair and blue eyes.”

  “Yeah, right.” Shannon blew a raspberry. “You’re just buttering me up because you’ve got another impossible stray over there you need a home for, right?”

  “You are so suspicious. You’re supposed to just say thank you when someone pays you a compliment. Especially when it’s true.”

  “Thank you, Lise. I’ll come by on my way home from work in the morning and buy you breakfast for saying such sweet things.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Okay, tell old Salvage I’ll see him in the morning.”

  “That’s his name? Salvage?”

  “I have no idea what his name is. He wasn’t wearing a collar or anything. The chief named him Salvage because he got saved from the fire. I don’t know what he was doing in that warehouse in the first place. Far as we could tell it was deserted.”

  “Probably hiding out. I’d guess he’s a stray, by the looks of him. Skinny. Rough coat. It’s too bad about his leg, but dogs do just fine on three. I’ve given him antibiotics, and a vitamin shot, as well. You gonna turn him over to the SPCA?”

  “I’ll advertise, see if anybody claims him,” Shannon told her.

  “And if they don’t?” Shannon knew from the sound of her voice that Lisa was smiling. “You’ll take him home to make friends with the odd couple, right?” Lisa guessed.

  “I suppose he can hang out at my sheltered workshop for a while, but I’ll have to find a permanent home for him pretty quick,” Shannon said. “He’s number three, which is two dogs more than the one small one I wanted in the first place. You do remember I said one small dog?”

  Lisa giggled. “You’ve got one.”

  “I’ve got two—one small, one enormous—and they’re both candidates for the funny farm. Plus, I spend more money on dog food than large families do on groceries.”

  When she’d bought her first house the year before, Shannon had told Lisa she wanted a small stray as a pet. The very next day, Lisa had brought her Cleopatra, a lovable teddy bear of a dog whose only trick was to lie on her back and wave her paws in the air. It was readily apparent that Cleo would never qualify for the doggy version of Mensa. She was a mentally challenged Saint Bernard with a psychological glitch that made her think she was a lapdog.

  “You’ve got to admit that Pepsi doesn’t eat much,” Lisa argued.

  “And that’s the only thing that wretched animal has going for him,” Shannon said. “If Pepsi was a person, he’d be telling dirty jokes, smoking a cigar and packing a pistol.”

  Lisa giggled. “You’re right, you know.”

  Pepsi, a tiny, long-haired, peculiar-looking mongrel with a bad attitude, had been abandoned on the porch of the clinic, and Lisa had convinced Shannon that Cleo needed a friend. Amazingly enough, the two dogs had bonded. Unfortunately, Cleo was the single exception to Pepsi’s universal hatred of both humans and animals. Biting and urinating were his chosen methods of communication.

  Shannon yawned. “Gotta go to bed, Lise. I can barely keep my eyes open here. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  They said good-night, and Shannon headed off to the bunk room.

  Her last thought before she dropped like a stone into sleep was of the mysterious man in the silver suit. Even she was beginning to wonder if she’d only dreamed him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THAT NIGHT WAS QUIET, which was a blessing. There were no call-outs until four in the morning, when Shannon’s crew was sent to treat a man having a seizure on a downtown street. He was a wino, and her team did what they could until the ambulance arrived and took him to hospital.

  Just before she was due to go off shift at six, Dan called her into the office.

  Great, she thought. Finally, he’s located the guy in the silver.

  But it wasn’t that at all.

  “The warehouse fire got some coverage on the TV late news last night,” Dan began. “They had a shot of you carrying that dog. They made a big thing over how you’d risked your life to save him. How’s he doing?”

  “He lost his back leg. It was too damaged to save, but he’s recovering.” Shannon couldn’t mask her irritation. “I really wish they hadn’t zeroed in on me and the dog. Why couldn’t they include the entire team? I was only—”

  Dan held out a hand, stopping her in midsentence.

  “I know, I know, you were just doing your job, O’Shea. But the fact is, a little PR never hurts. The bosses like it. And if we’re lucky, we might end up getting some public funding that would pay for another shower, one with your name on it. See, I got this call just now from a journalist. Some woman’s magazine wants to do a feature article on you.” He rummaged among scraps of paper and held one up. “California Woman, the magazine’s called.”

  Shannon’s immediate reaction was to refuse point-blank. She was basically shy, and the thought of being interviewed made her cringe.

  “Why not let them talk to Dana?”

  Dana Ivie was the other woman firefighter at the station. The schedule for the two squads at Jefferson Avenue was twenty-four hours on, thirty-six off, then twenty-four on, followed by five days off. Dana worked opposite shifts from Shannon, and was already on days off.

  “They specifically asked for you, because of the news coverage. Besides, Dana’s on her long break and they want to do this right away. It’s some kind of rush for the next issue.”

  Shannon didn’t enjoy being the center of attention, and she certainly would never seek out the limelight. There’d already been several articles in local papers about her and
Dana, just because they were the only female firefighers on the Courage Bay crew.

  She made a face and shook her head. “I dunno, Chief. I hate having a big fuss made just because I’m a woman. If it had been one of the guys with the dog, would they still want an interview?”

  Dan smiled and shook his head. “I doubt it. You gotta take into account that there aren’t that many women who make it through the application process, never mind the academy. You and Dana are exceptions. If you did this, it’d be good publicity for the department. Look what that documentary on your brother accomplished. We got new uniforms out of that.”

  “Yeah, but Sean’s also a smoke jumper. That’s different than being singled out just because of my gender.”

  Dan was sticking to his guns. “I think it’s a real opportunity, O’Shea. Like I said, never hurts to have some good PR, especially since we always need funding. But don’t let me influence you one way or the other. It’s entirely up to you…your decision.”

  Of course it was—not. As if she was going to refuse when her chief was practically saying it was her civic duty, not to mention holding out the carrot of a private shower, which she had lascivious fantasies about. One of the biggest hardships she and Dana had here at the station was having to juggle the use of the common showers with the guys. Shannon usually got up an entire hour early just to get in there before anyone else.

  Shannon heaved a resigned sigh. “Okay, tell the interviewer to give me a call.”

  “Good. Can I give her your home number?”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  Dan grinned and thumped her shoulder. “You’re a good man, O’Shea.”

  “Thanks, Chief.” He was a great guy. The department was lucky to have him.

  And he was a manipulator.

  Shouldering her backpack, Shannon set off at a jog for the veterinary clinic, looking forward to a good long run. Lisa’s clinic was some distance away, and Shannon had left her car at home. Jogging to work and back was one more way to stay in shape. When her lease came up on her apartment a year ago, Shannon had decided the time had come to buy something of her own. She’d searched for and found a small house only a mile from the fire station. It was in a neighborhood that was going through change, which meant that some houses were dilapidated while others were being yuppified. Her house was unquestionably in the run-down category, but being in her minimal price range and also close to work meant it was made for her. So it needed repairs. She’d get to them one by one.