Page 53 of Flash Freeze

“Hey, look,” Waylon said cheerfully. “No casualties.”

From below, the little girl squealed, “Whiskers!”

Flash swallowed a wad of emotions. “Yeah, that’s good.” She felt as if her pride, her leadership, her very identity had taken a beating. I should have thought about the fire’s heat melting the ice. But to come down in a big sheet like that?

Her friend must have noticed her brooding as she rolled the empty hose while taking her time down the steps. “Here, let me do that.” Waylon took it from her.

“That was on me,” she grumbled. “My mistake could have gotten Shaquille hurt.”

“Hey, cut yourself some slack,” he said as they reached the ground floor. “Not even lieutenants get every call right. What matters is that you handled the situation and didn’t lose focus.”

She nodded, saying nothing. But I shouldn’t have made a mistake.

“Thank you for saving Whiskers!” The little girl beamed at Flash through her tears as she squeezed the cat to her chest. The cat looked like it wanted to be anywhere else.

“Thank you for saving our home,” gushed the child’s mother. She hugged Flash, toddler and all.

“What’s the damage?” the man asked.

“The roof isn’t about to cave in, but you’ll need your insurance adjuster to advise you on getting a contractor and making repairs. And, naturally, part of the upstairs and your living room floor got wet. Tell me, what were you burning in that fireplace?

“Wood,” he answered blankly.

“What kind of wood?” Flash was tired and irritated, and this fellow seemed as clueless as everyone she’d dealt with that day.

“Pine,” he said. “We lost a tree a few years back, and I chain-sawed it up for firewood. No point letting it go to waste.”

She pinned him with a weary stare. “You’ve been burning pine in your fireplace for years?” She throttled back the tongue-lashing she yearned to give him. That’s why the chimney smelled like turpentine and, after years of buildup, why it caught fire. “Have a professional chimney sweep clean it before you use it again, and never, ever burn pine logs.”

“Sure, but after today, I don’t think I ever want to burn anything in there again.”

When Flash pulled herself into the cab, she didn’t switch their status to available. “Let’s head to the station, have lunch, and take a break. Our shift is still young. No point running ourselves into the ground.”

“Hells to the yeah!” Woods cheered. He didn’t seem the least bit upset with her. Somehow, that made it worse.

Chapter 25

Athena’s mood had worsened throughout the day as the investigation seemed to stall. Phone lines and cellular networks were overwhelmed with calls. The internet service was spotty. Either the website pages spun and spun before opening, or her indicator read “offline.” Hernandez didn’t even make it into the office. A tree fell on his car, putting a significant dent in the roof and breaking his windshield. He’d stayed home to cut it up with his chainsaw and watch over his family.

She knew that the city’s criminal elements would take full advantage of the crisis, and so did the Houston Police Department. Detective Bach escorted Shoops in and then informed Athena that headquarters ordered everyone off their regular cases to serve and protect citizens in peril. She supposed it was more urgent, especially since they had no leads as to Nexus’ identity.

Athena and Ice had spent the better part of the morning interrogating Whitmore’s security guard, who claimed he’d been in the area on other business.

“I was meeting someone at a bar Thursday night,” Tyrell Jenson retorted. He rolled his shoulders and rubbed his back, appearing very uncomfortable and irritated.

“Didn’t enjoy your night in lockup?” she’d asked.

“No,” the muscled man in his mid-thirties grumbled.

“What bar? Who did you meet and at what time?”

He went on to name the establishment and explain he’d been talking to a young woman he’d met there a few weeks ago, an environmental activist, no less. “Her name’s Faith Hunter,” he said, and wrote down her phone number. “I’d rather Mr. Whitmore and my wife not hear about this.”

“Must have been a long conversation for you to be issued a ticket at 5:30 Friday morning,” Ice had observed. “Or did you get lucky?”

Tyrell shrugged. “My wife’s out of town, and Faith and I have been talking for a while. I went with her back to her place. Look, Whitmore will think I’m fraternizing with the enemy, and my wife?” He offered them a pleading look. “She just doesn’t need to know. It’s not like I’m in the habit of having affairs; it’s just that Faith is so passionate. I’ve paid the ticket already. What’s the big deal?”

Athena finally reached the activist and crystal shop employee, Faith Hunter, who verified Jenson’s story. She told Ice to drive him home and tell him they’re investigating the bombing at Gulf Allied Chemicals. Travis said Jenson spent the entire ride trying to convince him that his side piece had nothing to do with it.