Were there any books or articles that detailed the cost of running on a false alarm call? If he could sit Sophia down and show her exactly how much it would cost the citizens of Renegade for her dumb stunt, that would be something he could use to teach her about the consequences of her actions.
Maybe Samantha Williams could answer those questions.
Their lives had crossed in an unofficial capacity thanks to two teenage girls acting out. No, despite the fact he’d given her hispersonal cell number, she was still his witness, and he should limit contact to official business.
This wasn’t covered in his training.
God, why did You bring me here?
He prayed silently for wisdom and guidance.
Because if he failed, if this spiraled out of control…the safety of Sophia and his two witnesses was at risk.
He couldn’t let that happen. Not on his watch.
SEVEN
Sam stifled a yawn as she dunked the oversized sponge in the sudsy bucket of water in the engine bay.
She’d been thinking about how the stunt Bella had pulled yesterday could affect their future. How long would it take to pack their belongings?
Since entering WITSEC, Sam had made every effort to live as a minimalist, so if they ever had to leave at the drop of a hat, there wasn’t much to pack. If they had to move and change their identities because Bella got into trouble, the Marshals would remind them of that fact at every turn.
Thinking about picking up and leaving filled her with grief. She’d have to cut ties with her colleagues, people she considered family. They’d be safe, but she’d be brokenhearted.
Even though the sun was shining and there was a nice breeze, perfect for washing the engine, a sense of foreboding hovered over her. She felt much like that donkey who kept losing his tail in the old stories. She wasn’t a psychiatrist, but she was pretty certain he suffered from clinical depression.
She attacked the front bumper of Engine 4, water splashing on the driveway. Nothing distracted a person like scrubbing bugguts off their engine. Not the worst option, though running on the treadmill or doing some weightlifting would be better. Only, it was wash day, and there was still a job to do. Exhausted or not. She’d worked on less sleep.
As punishment, Sam had given Bella a list of chores to keep her busy. She was getting more than just a suspension from school. It was not a vacation—Sam would make sure of it.
Murph walked around the front of the engine with the water hose. “If you scrub that any harder, you’re going to wear a hole in the chrome.” Murph was six foot two with red hair, green eyes, and pale skin. Not a fiery red. More of a subdued, darker red.
Sam sighed. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
“Isabella?” He rinsed the soap from the bumper she’d just scrubbed.
“Yeah.” She tossed the sponge in the bucket and shook the excess water from her hands. Sam looked at her watch. “You think Captain Bennett will be done soon? I might talk to him about some sort of community service for Bella to do. Something around the station that can help her understand the seriousness of what she did.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“No.” She patted him on the shoulder, then grabbed the bucket and took it back to the bay. She’d grab some microfiber towels to dry the engine. Water spots were unprofessional. They took pride in their station and their equipment. The better care they took of everything, the longer it lasted.
The station alarm sounded.
Murph raced back into the bay with the hose. She set the bucket to the side, out of the way, and raced to her turnout gear, lined up against the wall.
“Williams, you’re sitting this one out,” Lieutenant Fischer yelled across the empty bay.
She’d just plunged her feet through her pants and into her boots.
Was she being punished for what Bella had done? That couldn’t be it. She’d been on other fire calls since the incident.
“Why?” She hitched the suspenders over her shoulders.
Lieutenant Fischer stopped in front of her, his face an emotionless mask.
She couldn’t discern anything about what was going on in his head, but he looked her in the eye. She wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
