Page 62 of Flash Freeze

“Was she breathing when you started CPR?” the woman asked, attaching a cardiac monitor.

Flash solemnly shook her head.

“I’m seeing thermal burns to the inside of the mouth, throat, and nasal passages,” the man examining her said.

“She’s suffered third-degree burns to this hand and arm,” the woman added. She touched her fingers to Susan’s neck. “Still no pulse.”

Flash stood out of their way, watching while the team tried to resuscitate the victim, recalling every decision she’d made since they arrived. Flores asked if they should check upstairs, but she’d thought attacking the fire and stopping its progression was more important.

No one knew where the manager was, she told herself. The upstairs didn’t seem to be involved. Why on earth would a reasonable person have even come up here when she knew there was a blazing kitchen conflagration underneath? It’s not like she was trapped in the office before the fire started.

Guilt clawed at Flash as the EMT shook his head. “I’ll tell the police outside that we have a fatality. They’ll handle it from there.”

Flash nodded, and she and Waylon headed down the stairs. “You couldn’t have known,” he said. “Only a fool would have gone upstairs in a burning building. What was so important in that office?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the cops’ll figure it out.” Flash’s shoulders slumped. She’d saved her team, put out the fire, but lost a civilian in the process.

They were packing up the rig when the restaurant owner stormed over. “How could you do this?” His eyes glared red. “I told you my manager went in there and didn’t come out. You were supposed to look for her.”

“We did, sir,” Woods answered in Flash’s stead. “We called out multiple times. She could have been dead from smoke inhalation before we even arrived.”

“I understand your grief and anger,” Waylon said, stepping between him and Flash. “We all wanted to save her, but we had only minutes to operate. Then the roof collapsed.”

“Don’t make excuses,” he raged, jabbing a finger into Waylon’s chest. The owner wasn’t a big man, and the scene could have been comical under different circumstances.

Flash finally spoke in a sympathetic tone laden with weariness. “We chose to become firefighters because we have a driving desire to save lives, to protect and serve our community, to stand in the gap and charge to the fore when others run away. I wish that we could save everyone; sadly, that isn’t the case. I am deeply sorry for your loss.” His eyes remained icy-hard.

“I’ll sue!”

Flash turned away to mount the engine. She felt bad enough without this guy driving the nails in deeper. Behind her, she heard Captain Jake.

“Sir, that’s your right, but what about your culpability? Did you ask her to go in and check on things?”

Glancing over, Flash saw the fury wash out of his expression.

“Why’d you let your employee enter a burning building anyway?” Jake asked. The man lowered his head and walked away. “Cash?”

She met the captain’s gaze with trepidation. She should have sent someone upstairs when they first arrived. But if one of her guys had been up there when the fire flashed, when the floor gave way … “Sir?” She held her breath.

“You handled it right. You read the building, got your crew out before the collapse, and made every reasonable effort to find the victim. Sometimes that’s the best we can do. Good work, Lieutenant.”

That was high praise. So why didn’t she feel any better? “Still,” he added, “I want you to take off the rest of the day. Go home and get some sleep. Captain Ortiz might call you to fill in for Fischer tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Flash responded, spinning with mixed emotions. She wondered when O’Riley had gotten here. Still, it had been an exhausting couple of days, and she could use the sleep.

But what if manager Susan had been alive and unable to respond when we first arrived? What if I had sent someone upstairs?

Chapter 29

Athena watched the city go by through Travis’s Jeep window. More people were trying to get out today, some making it, others slipping and getting stuck in ditches. Two athletic lads shoveled around a middle-aged woman’s car, helping her out. She was probably their mom, aunt, or favorite teacher. Athena was especially struck by the solid fountain as they passed a park, its spray frozen into crystal arcs cascading in every direction. Footpaths marred the snowy lawn, and a group of bundled-up children bounded through the white stuff, throwing snowballs and laughing with glee. A snow-person family looked on, their stick arms raised as if cheering.

She suddenly recalled playing with her Peekapoo, Milly, in the snow one winter when she was a child. The little dog didn’t know what to make of the frosty flakes and bounced around in wonder. Losing Milly, especially because she blamed herself, had been the most traumatic experience of her life before her husband’s death. Had she become numb to bad things, or just better at handling them? She didn’t think she could ever give her heart to a pet again until Snuffles. Thinking of the little furball made her smile.

“Sure looks like they’re having fun,” Travis commented. “This will be a winter those kids’ll never forget.”

“I think you’re right,” Athena agreed. He drove under the overpass, turned right, continued for a few blocks, then pulled up in front of the old warehouse-turned-microbrewery, with Flash’s loft on the fifth floor. “Thanks, Agent Ice. Hopefully, this will all melt soon, and I can stop inconveniencing you.”

“It’s no inconvenience at all, ASAC Bouvier,” he answered with a smile. “Glad I can help.”