Four Weddings and a Fireman (24 page)

Vader bolted to his feet, knocking over the chair. The two men swiveled to stare at him.

“I have to go. Problem at home,” he muttered.

“We're having a meeting,” said Renteria imperiously. “I have a limited amount of time and this is it.”

“I get it. And I'm really sorry. I'll send you a complete report, I'll come to your office for another meeting, whatever you need. What's your e-­mail address?” Vader backed across the office as he talked. “I can send everything to you the day after tomorrow.”

The chief scowled.

“Tomorrow,” he revised. “But I have to get home right away.” He reached the door, stumbling as his back hit the wood.

“Vader's mother was recently in a house fire,” Brody told the chief. “They're still dealing with the aftermath.”

Add another item to the long list of nice things Brody had done for him. The chief nodded with a show of understanding. “Good luck to you, man.”

“Thanks, Chief. Thanks Captain.” Vader threw in a military salute for good measure and flung open the office door.

“One more thing, Brown,” called Renteria. “Make sure to send me that YouTube link. I need to know what we're dealing with.”

“Yes, sir.”

And he was gone, flying down the corridor toward the parking lot. He passed a firefighter from Station 6 arriving for the school liaison meeting. “Meeting's canceled,” he yelled. “Spread the word.”

And this
, he thought, as he sprinted across the parking lot toward his truck,
is what a wannabe fire captain going down in flames looks like
. Maybe he could have survived the Firefly video. But the video, on top of running out of an interview with the fire chief, on top of canceling another meeting, on top of the legendary backlog of Vader deeds and misdeeds . . . he could kiss that promotion good-­bye.

Some things were more important than the fire department career ladder. Though Renteria might not agree.

 

Chapter Twenty-­Three

V
ader bounded up the walkway of the Gardam Street house. Through the open front door, he saw all three women in the entryway. Trixie was babbling a mile a minute, his mother was wheeling her chair back and forth, and Cherie, white as one of her bedsheets, was questioning the other two. The combined decibel level was off the charts.

Before stepping into the madness, he did a quick, methodical check of the premises to make sure the intruder had left. When the search came up clean, he strode into the house, closed and locked the door behind him, and steered everyone into the living room. There, he planted himself in the middle of the room and called on all his firefighter training. Firefighters, especially captains leading their crews, had to project calm. Any hint of panic and everyone would freak out and accidents would happen.

“Trixie.” His deeper voice managed to cut through the cacophony. “You first.” He figured she was going to talk anyway, he might as well start with her. “What happened?”

Trixie shot a frightened, questioning look at Cherie, who nodded. “Tell him,” she said. “He knows about Mackintosh.”

Cherie, actually advocating sharing information with him. Would wonders never cease?

“It was Mr. Mackintosh,” said Trixie. “He knocked on the door and called out Mrs. Brown's name. He said she'd contacted him by e-­mail about a new home health care insurance policy.”

“I never!” Ginny gasped, but Vader stopped her with a commanding hand gesture.

“One at a time. Go on, Trixie.”

“So I opened the door and there he was, just as putrid ugly as ever. Of course I told him to go back to Arkansas and leave us alone.”

“Was he looking for Cherie?”

“No, sir.” Trixie had never called him “sir” before; he kind of liked it. “That's the weird part. He wanted to know where Jacob was.”

Cherie gasped. “
Jacob?
What did you tell him?”

“I said he didn't live here anymore.”

“Did you think about calling the police?” Vader asked.

“I had my finger on my medical alert button the whole time,” said his mother, with a hint of pride.

“He said not to call the police.” Trixie began to sob. “He said if anyone called the police he'd report Cherie to the authorities.”

Cherie's hand flew to her throat. She sank onto the couch, so pale Vader was afraid she would faint. “Did he say what he wants with Jacob?”

“No. But he looked mighty mean when he said it. We can't let him find Jacob.”

“How did he know about Mrs. Brown?” Cherie asked the room at large. “Has he been spying on us?”

A sob burst from Ginny's direction. “It's my fault.” Everyone looked in her direction. She wheeled her chair over to Cherie. Tears streamed down her face, usually so cheerful. “Oh hon, I'm so sorry. I was curious about you girls and started nosing around online. You know me and my Internet. Mackintosh was listed as your family's contact, so I sent him an e-­mail, but I never said anything about health insurance and I certainly never gave my address. But I must have tipped him off. I'm truly sorry. He's a bad man, I saw it as soon as he marched in here with his lies.”

Vader clenched his hands into white-­knuckled fists. If only he'd been here . . . if only he could get just one chance to knock that man into the next century . . .

Ginny was still talking, half sobbing. “You opened your home to us and this is how I repay you. I'll never forgive myself. We should leave, Vader, you hear me? We shouldn't impose a minute longer.”

Vader froze. That aspect hadn't occurred to him. His own mother had reached out, somehow, to Mackintosh and brought trouble into Cherie's home, turned Cherie into a white-­faced, trembling bundle of fear. One thing was for sure; he wasn't leaving the house unprotected again. He'd put his mother in a hotel, maybe, or somewhere else safe. But he was staying put.

Impulsively, Cherie snatched up Mrs. Brown's hand and held it to her heart. “Don't you dare even think something like that, Mrs. Brown. It's no wonder you were curious. Vader's your son. 'Course you wanted to find out more. I don't blame you one bit for anything Mackintosh does. He's crazy, always has been. And it's my fault as much as anyone's. I shouldn't have kept so much to myself. You all are staying right where you are, hear? That is, if you want to after all this.”

Her Arkansas accent had never been stronger; Vader had never loved her more.

Ginny cradled Cherie's hand against her cheek. “You've got a sweet heart, hon.”

Vader might have cried, if he weren't a big, strong fireman in the midst of handling a crisis. “A sweet heart” was Ginny's highest compliment. He cleared his throat. “Has anyone called Jacob yet?”

Everyone's gaze turned toward him. Cherie jumped to her feet. “I'll call him right now. Where's my phone?”

Trixie tossed her own cell phone to Cherie. She punched in a number, her fingers shaking. The room went quiet as she placed the call.

When he answered, everyone went quiet as she spoke. “Jacob, it's Cherie. We just had a visit from Mackintosh.”

“
What?
” Even over the phone, everyone could hear him. Someone else said something inaudible in the background.

“Where are you?” Cherie asked.

“I'm driving. What happened? What did he say?”

“He said he's looking for you. Oh Jacob, be careful. I don't know why he's after you, but he's getting crazier and crazier.”

Jacob let loose a stream of curse words that made Trixie clap her hands over her hears. “Didn't I tell you this would happen, Cherie?”

Vader saw tears start in her eyes. Without stopping to think, he plucked the phone out of her hand. “Hi Jacob. It's me, Vader.”

Surprised silence greeted him.

“I know you didn't want Cherie to tell me anything, but to be honest, that's just dumb. If this Mackintosh is really that dangerous, you need all the help you can get. Especially if you guys don't want to call the cops.”

“We don't,” Jacob said quickly. Vader knew Jacob pretty well, and had always liked him. He had a wry, live-­wire style and was intensely protective of Cherie.

“I think that's a mistake. You're the one he's after, apparently. Don't you want some protection?”

“I'll be fine.” He said something to whoever was in the car with him. “I'm on my way to Las Vegas. We've got a long weekend coming up. It's a good place to disappear.”

“You have someone with you?”

“A friend. Don't worry about me, just take care of Cherie and Humility, okay?”

“Trixie.”

“I'm not calling her that ridiculous name.”

Vader winked at Trixie, who made a face at him. “Keep your cell phone charged.”

“Guaranteed. And thanks, Vader. Maybe my sister knew what she was doing after all. I hope so.”

Vader handed the phone back to Cherie. She spoke a few more soft words to Jacob, then hung up, giving him an odd look in the process. “Three days ago he was furious with me.”

Vader shrugged. “He's got bigger worries now.”

Trixie piped up. “Did he say Las Vegas? Why's he going there?”

“He said he has a long weekend. He's got a friend with him.”

Cherie tossed Trixie's phone back to her. “So what do we do now?”

It felt so good to have Cherie turning to him for advice. He could definitely get used to that.

“We should consider calling the police,” he said. “If Mackintosh made threats and came onto the property, he broke the law.”

“No,” said Cherie firmly. “Jacob doesn't want us to, and he's the one Mackintosh is after.”

Vader rubbed the back of his neck. “For all we know, Mackintosh could change his mind and come back tomorrow. We'll book a hotel room. A suite.”

“No,” said Cherie, again. “I've been scared of that man for too many years. If he comes back, I want to be here. I want to find out why he's after Jacob.” She shot a glance at Vader. “First thing I'm going to do is call that lawyer. Maybe you were right about those charges. Maybe we need to go on the offensive.”

“Much as I love those three little words, ‘You were right,' I'm not sure about this, Cherie. I don't want you dealing with him alone if he shows up. And I have one more shift to work this week.”

“I have a brilliant notion.” Ginny raised her hand. “How about we invite some Bachelor Firemen over for dinner? If there's a bunch of strong men rattling around, he might think twice about coming back.”

Trixie clapped her hands together. “You're a genius, Mrs. Brown! I vote for that idea. We can make my special squirrel chili, except with beef, of course . . .”

Vader tuned her out. His mother might be on to something. He had no intention of leaving Cherie unprotected for so much as a minute, and he wouldn't mind some backup from the San Gabriel firefighters, since the police weren't an option. But he also liked the idea of going on the offensive and tracking down the bastard before he tried anything else.

First things first. He knelt in front of his mother, noting the high color in her cheeks and the feverish brightness of her eyes. “Maybe you should go for that hotel room, Mom. I don't want you dealing with all this stress.”

Ginny whacked him on the arm. “Don't you dare, Vader. This is my fault and I'm not going anywhere. Besides, you all might need me. This wheelchair can do some damage, especially if he's not expecting it.”

Cherie laughed. “You heard her, Vader.” She put her hand on Ginny's shoulder; Ginny reached up to cover it with hers. Despite his worry, Vader could have danced a jig at the sight. If this experience ended up bringing his mother and Cherie together, he might have to give Mackintosh a big thank-­you. After he kicked his ass, of course.

The panic of
knowing that Mackintosh had actually
come into the house
kept hitting Cherie with new waves of gut-­wrenching nausea. This was exactly what she'd feared all these years, except even worse. Why was he looking for Jacob? She could handle threats against her, but not her loyal, vulnerable brother.

Maybe Mackintosh had figured that out. Maybe it was all some kind of trick. If only she knew what Mackintosh was thinking.

“So here's the plan,” Vader said.

Trixie propped her feet on the coffee table. “Who put you in charge?”

“Me,” Cherie said firmly. She knew she wasn't thinking clearly. Thank the merciful heavens for Vader. Especially this sure, in-­charge, decisive side of Vader.

Vader continued as if no one had spoken. “Trixie, you don't leave my mother's side. You both keep your cell phones with you at all times and put 911 on speed dial. Any sound, anything the least bit suspicious, you call 911. I don't care what Jacob wants, if it's an emergency, you call 911. Got it?”

Trixie nodded and started punching numbers into her phone.

“Cherie, you call that lawyer and tell her you need to meet right away. Use my name this time, please. I did some work on her house and she owes me. See if she can give you some kind of legal-­looking document you can wave at Mackintosh if he comes back. I'll be here tonight, but starting tomorrow I'll set up a rotation with the guys. Someone will be checking on the house every hour. If anyone sees a strange man, they're going to call me.”

“Vader, surely we can do more than that,” Ginny complained. “Why don't we try to find out where Mackintosh is staying? I could do some searching online. If he found me, I bet I can find him.”

“Internet searching is fine, but nothing more than that,” said Vader.

“I'll call the lawyer right now,” Cherie told everyone, then realized she had no idea where her cell phone was. Everything had happened so fast. She'd gotten the panic text from Trixie, she'd broken all the speed limits to get home, she'd burst into the house . . .

Right. She'd dropped her tote bag in the entryway. Shakily, she made her way into the relative quiet of the little foyer, with its coatrack and catch-­all table and the fish tank, where the oblivious banana fish and reef fish were gliding peacefully to and fro. Somehow, the quiet of the room brought out all the accumulated adrenaline in her system. Her hands trembled so much that she had trouble searching her bag. When she finally fished her phone out, it slipped through her fingers onto the polished floor with a dull clunk.

It winked up at her in its silver case, as if reminding her of how crazy things had gotten. An hour earlier, she'd been fielding calls from tango students about her newfound YouTube stardom. Then the message from Trixie had come. How could things fall apart so fast? She bent down to retrieve the phone, the YouTube video running through her mind. What if Mackintosh saw it? Would he forget about Jacob and attack Vader?

“You okay?” Vader crouched next to her. His strong thighs flexed under the khaki of his pants. She caught his scent, that essential Vader combination of firehouse and body soap, comfort and strength. With a sob she turned and buried her face in his chest.