Authors: Jennifer Bernard
“Lizzie, I swear to God, don’t go there . . . What’s that sound?”
She raised her head, listening. A heavy crash echoed through the ravaged store, followed by an ominous rumble.
For the first time, Mulligan murmured a prayer.
Don’t let anyone else get hurt. Please, God. Anything but that.
C
APTAIN
B
RODY LOOKED
tense and unhappy as he strode across the crowded parking lot past engines and glaring floodlights. Lizzie clutched Stacy’s arm so tightly her friend squeaked.
“What happened?” she asked as Brody drew close.
“They thought they found a good entry point, but it turned out to be a storage room that led nowhere. Part of the roof caved in, but everyone got out of the way in time.”
“And Mulligan?”
“If he’s still exactly where he fell, he should be fine. It’s possible that something might have bounced and struck him. But chances are good the collapse wasn’t near him. He’s probably trapped, and that may be a good thing in this case.”
Lizzie nodded rapidly. “I want to do something. What can I do?”
“Right now, nothing. They have to find another entry point and get through the rubble. That’s mostly saws and pry bars.”
“Are there other people injured? I could help the triage team. And Stacy is a doctor.”
He gave a brisk nod and gestured to the north end of the parking lot. “Triage is set up over there. Smoke inhalation and panic attacks, for the most part. But if we need you for anything, keep your cell handy.”
“Of course.” She didn’t want to think about what “anything” might mean. What if it meant identifying Mulligan’s body?
“Don’t go there,” Stacy advised, as if she could hear Lizzie’s thoughts. “One step at a time. Let’s go see what we can do.”
They picked their way across the network of hoses crisscrossing the parking lot. Another ladder truck had positioned its aerial over the Yogurtland, and a lonely figure aimed a hose from the bucket at its tip. Amid the billowing clouds of smoke, that stream of water seemed so insignificant. But maybe with all the other streams of water, and all these firefighters . . . good Lord, there had to be dozens here . . .
She spotted a familiar face and ran to join the tall, imposing, fierce man just arriving on the scene, while Stacy continued on toward the triage area. “Chief Roman!”
“Lizzie.” He caught her up in a quick hug. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”
“Of course not. I guess you couldn’t either.”
“Hey, it’s Mulligan. He might be a pugnacious son of a bitch, but he’s one of our own. Helluva guy, too.”
“Yeah.”
Pugnacious.
Pretty good word for him. Always fighting. “Maybe it’s a good thing to be pugnacious when you’re trapped inside a building.”
“If anyone can survive it, Mulligan can.” Chief Roman scanned her closely, his deep midnight eyes seeming to comprehend every bit of what she was feeling. He’d lost his first wife in the collapse of the Twin Towers, so he probably did. “You doing all right?”
“I suppose. It’s not like we’re married. We just . . .” She faltered, since she didn’t know exactly how to describe their roller-coaster relationship. “Dated for a while.”
He smiled tenderly at her, as if he knew better.
She changed the subject quickly. “Where’s Sabina?”
“She pulled Yogurtland duty. They’re getting a handle on that flank. This fire should be out within a half hour.” His deep, gravelly voice was incredibly reassuring. “Hey, look who’s here.”
Lizzie swung around. “
Psycho?
What are you doing here?” The blue-eyed daredevil had left the station over a year ago to join a hotshot crew in Nevada. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“We’re spending Christmas with Vader and Cherie. Heard about Mulligan. We came to see if they need any extra hands.”
“We?”
Jogging up behind him came two more faces from the past. Thor, blond as a Viking, who’d always been the strong, silent type, offered her a serious smile. Matt McBride, the cute towheaded fireman with the Scottish brogue, was more ebullient. He swung her around in a wide circle.
“My oh my, look how pretty you grew up, lass.”
“Matt! I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“You still had braces last time I saw you.”
“Is Bianca here too? What about Maribel?”
“They’re in town, but they didn’t want to get in the way. They sent you a big hug, and lucky me, I get to deliver it.”
Matt’s hug should have been patented and sold as a stress-reliever. By the time he released her, she was pink and flustered. “I can’t believe you’re all in San Gabriel. And that you came out here tonight.”
“It’s Mulligan,” another voice explained. She spun around. Ryan Blake, the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on, draped an arm over Psycho’s shoulder. “We owe him. And we love the guy. Crazy bastard that he is.”
“Glad to see someone followed in my footsteps.” Psycho winked one dazzling blue eye. In the washed-out light of the floodlights, his eyes had a neon brilliance. “Wouldn’t want the station to get too straightedged.”
“No chance of that with Mulligan around.”
Everyone chuckled. Lizzie gazed around the little circle of firefighters, none of whom worked at Station 1 anymore. Matt had joined the Los Angeles Fire Department so he could be with his wife, a former model and now-famous photographer. Thor had moved to Alaska with Maribel, where they were raising Maribel’s son Pete and baby twins. He ran a volunteer fire department in a small town up there.
Psycho lived in Nevada now and flew around the country fighting wildfires. Roman, who passionately loved to cook, had left the fire service completely and opened his own restaurant. Now he left the firefighting to his wife, Sabina. Ryan had opened a firefighter academy that focused on recruiting and training troubled young people.
And yet here they all were, spending Christmas Eve Eve at a fire scene. Worried about someone they either didn’t work with anymore, or never had worked with, since Mulligan was fairly new.
“What about your families? Shouldn’t you be home with them?” Her throat closed up against a swell of emotion.
“Maribel took Pete and the twins to the station so Pete could play with Stan,” Thor told her gently. Thor, she remembered now, had first brought Stan to the station. Stan’s owner had abandoned him, and Pete had been sneaking food to the dog. When they’d all left for Alaska, it had nearly broken Pete’s heart.
“Rachel says that Stan senses something’s going on. He’s been whining and anxious.” Psycho gave a grim smile. “Kind of like the rest of us.”
“Luke’s out with Carly,” said Roman. “As for the rest of my family, they’re all right here.” Even though he gestured toward the Yogurtland, where Sabina was battling the blaze, he clearly meant to include the other firefighters.
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“There’s no way Katie would let me sit home while a brother firefighter is down,” said Ryan firmly. “Even guys from the other shifts came in. Jeb Stone’s talking to the news media. He got all that special training from Nita, and now they’re talking about making him a public information officer.”
Jeb’s wife, Nita, was a high-powered press secretary, but Jeb was so photogenic, with his tiger-striped eyes, that the media probably loved him. In fact, she saw Ella Joy from Channel Six News holding a microphone to his face.
“I still can’t believe you’re all here.”
“It’s Mulligan,” Roman said again, as if that explained everything. “A lot of us might not even be alive if not for him.”
“Yup,” said Matt. “Don’t you remember what happened on his first day at the station? Firehouse legend by now.”
“His first day.” Lizzie frowned. “I think I was away then. Right, I went on a trip to Mexico with some friends. When I got back, it was as if Mulligan had always been here. He didn’t even seem like a new guy. No one teased him or played pranks on him or anything.”
“That’s because of what happened on his first day,” Ryan explained. “I heard about it afterward, but I wasn’t there. Who saw it? Matt, were you still around?”
He shook his head. “Got the lowdown from you.”
“Fred never told you about it, Lizzie?” Psycho sounded incredulous.
“Does the story make Mulligan look good?”
“Hell, yes.” The firefighters all chimed in on that one.
“Then Fred wouldn’t have shared it with me. He kept ordering me to stay away from Mulligan. I think he kept telling Mulligan the same thing.”
“That’s affirmative,” said Roman drily. “I used to see them at Lucio’s. Fred would lecture Mulligan on all the ways he was going to dismantle him if he hurt you.”
Lizzie sniffed. When this was all over, she was going to have a talk with her overly protective big brother. Of course, if Fred got Mulligan out alive, nothing else would matter. “I think it’s time someone told me the story. It’s the least you guys can do.”
“What story?” Captain Brody had joined them, and was busy shaking hands all around. He’d been captain for all these men at some point, except Chief Roman, and those two were close friends now.
“Mulligan’s first day. When the armed intruder entered the station,” said Chief Roman.
Lizzie let out a gasp. “An armed intruder? I can’t believe he didn’t tell me about something like that!”
“You know Mulligan,” said Matt. “He performs these crazy acts of heroism but shrugs them off like he doesn’t deserve any praise. If it was me, I’d be tooting my horn all over town. Mulligan . . . he likes the bad-boy image, I think.”
“Crazy acts of heroism . . . what are you talking about?”
“Maybe this isn’t the best time for that story.” Captain Brody directed a thunderous frown at the little knot of firemen. “Lizzie has enough to worry about.”
“No. I want to hear it.” Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest. “Obviously he survived the armed intruder. Please, I want to hear it!”
“Brody, you were there, weren’t you?” said Ryan. “I remember you told me all about it later that day, at the academy.”
“Yes, I went in for a meeting. Chief Renteria saw the whole thing, too. So did Vader and Stud and Double D and Sabina. Sabina, she can tell the story really well.” He turned to go, but Lizzie grabbed at his arm.
“Please! I want to hear it. It’ll distract me.” She tried a winning smile, the one that worked on her brothers. “There’s nothing any of us can do, right? The crew’s still trying to get inside, and everyone else is pulling hoses. Stacy’s over there handing out juice. You’re all here because you can’t stand to be anywhere else, but we can’t
do
anything.”
“We’re doing something. We’re supporting you. That’s what Mulligan would want.” Ryan slung a friendly arm around her shoulders.
“Exactly. If you want to support me, tell me what happened on Mulligan’s first day!”
Brody gave a heavy sigh, and scrubbed at the back of his neck. “Are you always this—”
“Determined?” She held his gaze. “You have no idea. ”
W
HEN
M
ULLIGAN FIRST
walked into San Gabriel Station 1, he was having a very bad day. He’d gotten a middle-of-the-night phone call from his mother, who was fighting the battle to stay clean and losing, as she had every previous time she’d tried. When Dottie Mulligan did drugs—her preference was crystal meth, but she’d do anything in a pinch—she got cruel and nasty. As a kid, Mulligan had grown accustomed to violent behavior. He’d become a scrapper, someone you didn’t mess with.
But when it came to his mother, things were different. He couldn’t fight back against his mother. Even though she lost him to foster care twice, and allowed his stepfather to nearly kill him, he still loved her.
For years he’d sent her money, until he became convinced he was just enabling her. Now he’d send her money only for rehab, or if she’d completed rehab and needed rent money. He didn’t want money stress to make her turn to drugs. But he kept his policy clear and strict: the second he believed she was back on drugs, he stopped sending her money. He couldn’t stand the thought of paying to support her habit.
During this morning’s phone call, she’d admitted to doing a hit of cocaine and screamed at him for refusing to send her “grocery” money. The details of her rant weren’t pretty, but he’d gone through it before and her cruel words just rolled off his back.
Or maybe they didn’t, because on his first day of work as a San Gabriel firefighter, he couldn’t even manage a smile as Captain Jeb Stone introduced him around. He shook hands, he spoke his name, he paid attention, but at the back of his mind horrible words kept repeating in a constant loop. “No-good bastard . . . pig-headed ass . . . should have drowned you in the bathtub . . . should have left you with the system . . .”
She doesn’t mean it
, he told himself.
It’s the drugs talking.
But those kinds of words cut deep, and he’d been hearing them all his life.
The C shift seemed like nice guys, and he also met a few of the A shift crew, who were hanging around for a special counterterrorism training session.
Derek “Vader” Brown, who had the physique of a linebacker and the personality of a party boy, shook his hand, looked him up and down, and said, “You work out?”
“Yeah.”
“I know all the gyms in town. I can hook you up with the good stuff.”
“The good stuff?”
“The best equipment. Best power smoothies. That sort of thing.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Never had a smoothie.”
“Never had a smoothie? Dude, I can set you up with a protein powder peanut butter shake that’ll make you cry.”
“Don’t make the new guy cry,” said Captain Stone drily. “Not yet. Give him a chance to catch his first fire.”
After that they talked fires for a while, and baseball. He explained that he’d left the minor leagues to attend a firefighting academy, gotten a degree in fire science, and spent most of his time as a rookie in Porter Ranch.
“How’d you get the spot here?” The youthful-looking Fred asked that question. “A lot of guys want this station.”
“Captain Brody recommended me.”
That spurred a bunch of new questions, to which Mulligan explained that he’d worked a fire where Brody had been the IC. It was his first actual fire, as opposed to car accidents and medical calls, and he’d rescued a baby unconscious in a crib. Brody had noticed, and called Mulligan up when a spot had opened on the C shift.