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Once I call into dispatch to let them know I’m en route, I make the drive with my lights and sirens on. We make good time, getting there right after the fire department pulls into the lot.
The large twenty-thousand-square-foot facility has smoke coming out of every window, many with flames shooting out. I can feel the heat as soon as I sign off on-scene and open the truck. Pulling out my gun, I make my way around the scene as best I can, with other police officers joining me as they arrive on location.
It takes us close to ten minutes, but there is no one there. The arsonist got away again, and I feel strangely relieved. It means that Margot isn’t in danger from a crazy man while she works, and I’m torn. If the perpetrator was here, we could have arrested him. I breathe a little easier as I walk back to my truck and help her down.
Watching her work is like watching a well-plotted movie. I sit on the hood of my truck while she does everything she needs to. She speaks to the incident commander, helps the paramedic crews set up a triage area, and even assists in handing out bottled water to the firefighters and other personnel who need it. She spends hours there, making sure that everyone is taken care of and that no one is unaccounted for.
By the time it’s done, the building is almost a total loss. There have been twenty injured people, but thankfully no fatalities. I know it isn’t over. We need to find a way to catch this guy. I just hope that we will be able to before anyone else loses their life.
After all the firefighters clear the scene, all the patients have been transported, and the other officers are starting to clear the scene, only then do I make my way to my woman’s side and tell her that we need to get home.
“Yeah, I’m ready. I’m exhausted actually.” She yawns and follows me to the truck.
By the time I pull into the driveway, she is snoring lightly and leaning against the window. Instead of waking her up, I open the front door and then go back to the truck to carry her into the house and back to the bedroom. Stripping off her shoes and pants, I move her so that the blanket covers her. Her only response is to moan and then roll over.
I smile down at her, and once I’m ready for bed, I crawl in next to her. I lie there for a while, just watching her sleep. When I close my eyes and let sleep carry me away, I have nightmares of our life together being torn away by a fire. It destroys everything in its path, and I wake up from the dream in a cold sweat. Reaching for Margot, I hold her in my arms while my breathing slows, swearing I’ll do anything in my power to keep her safe and by my side.
* * *
The days pass almost in a blur. Margot goes back to her house for clothes, but every night she’s in my bed where she belongs. Every morning, I get ready for work hours before Margot gets out of bed. Even though we both have to go into the department first thing, I use the extra time to get my workout in without being disturbed and without letting it take me away from her in the afternoon. When I’m done, she’s just getting in the shower, and because I’m not an idiot, I strip down and follow her in.
Like clockwork, it’s our morning routine, and I love every second of it.
The warm water does more than soothe my muscles after the workout. The feel of her body, lathered in soap, rubbing against mine, pushes my desire for her into overdrive. The minutes we should spend getting clean are used as an excuse to reacquaint myself with every inch of her body. The smile on her face tells me that she enjoys every moment of it just as much as I do. When we’re done, I get out first and hand her the terry cloth towel that she had brought from her place.
Then we get dressed and have breakfast together before heading into the office. We take separate vehicles because Margot has appointments with various people and organizations, and I need my county vehicle to do my job.
Sitting in my office, I hold my badge in my hand, the black band still wrapped around the center symbolizing Dustin’s death. The loss of an officer has hit me hard, even more so because there is nothing I can do about it. When there is a knock on the door, I look up into Brian’s eyes.
“Hey, man. What can I do for you?”
“I’m heading out for lunch. Wondered if you wanted to come with. I’m thinking Mexican food today.” Brian pulls out his phone, looking at the screen. “Maya’s on a health kick, and all I can think about right now is something greasy and delicious.”
“Nah. I have to go and get a haircut before I lose my mind.” My hair has been growing out, and it is driving me crazy.
“Oh, sweet. Maya says that the place she and Margot go does amazing with fades. I don’t have a need for it.” To emphasize his point, he rubs his bald head. “But it’s called Turning Heads. It’s right behind the bank on Main Street.”
“Should I call and set up an appointment?” I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, ready to google the number.
“No, you should be all set. They take walk-ins, and they’re all pretty quick in there.”
“Yeah, ’cause you would know so much about that.” I look pointedly at Brian’s head.
“Watch yourself, dick. Now get out of here before I regret helping you get pretty.” He knocks on the frame and then walks away.
The salon is right where Brian said it would be, nestled behind the bank so that you can’t see who is at the salon while you drive by. Strangely, it makes me feel a little better about going to a hair salon rather than a barber. As I park and get out of my truck, I can’t help thinking about asking if the stylist will wash my hair when she is done cutting it. The parking lot is empty except for three cars, so I assume they’ll be able to get me in fairly quickly.
Opening the door to the salon, I’m surprised that a chemical smell doesn’t greet me. Instead, it smells like fresh linen. Light-teal paint adorns most of the walls, with one of them a light tan. There are four stations, with three women sitting in the chairs. No customers, however. When they notice me, a brown-haired woman stands to greet me. She has freckles and stands about five and a half feet tall. She is wearing a dark-gray tunic and a pair of black leggings with a pair of bright-blue shoes.
“Hiya, I’m Jordan. How can I help you?” She leaves her chair, moving to a counter holding a computer and phone.
“Oh, um. I’d like to get a haircut. But I don’t have an appointment.”
“No problem. We can have Addy do it if you’d like. Both me and Amy have appointments coming in the next fifteen minutes.” She taps at the screen in front of her, not making eye contact.
“Sure, that sounds good. Thanks for getting me in.”
“Well, we do what we can for our local law enforcement.” She looks at me with a grin and waves me over to another woman.
