“How bad is it?” Shirley asked, fear filling her eyes. “Will I lose my house?”
“However bad it is, you’ll be okay,” Frankie told her as she removed her helmet and mask. “You and Amelia will be taken care of, I promise.” If there was one thing Butterfly Harbor always did, it was take care of their own.
Shirley cried, clutching her daughter and rocking her back and forth to the point that Amelia looked rather irritated, as her music box had stopped.
Frankie waved over Ozzy to stay with Shirley before she went to Roman and the crew. “Well?”
“It’s pretty much wiped out the kitchen,” Roman told her. “Some damage to the front hall. I wouldn’t want anyone living in there until it can be assessed, and the water didn’t help, of course. But it could have been worse.” He looked admiringly at the volunteers who were congregating by the truck, removing their masks and helmets. “It could have been a lot worse.”
CHAPTER TEN
ROMAN CLICKED SAVE before he printed out his report hours later. While he waited for the printer to chug out the copy, he caught a glimpse of Frankie in the kitchen attacking a can of cranberry sauce with a strength that amazed him.
He grabbed the report, scribbled his name, set it in the box for filing and submission, then took a few extra moments for some deep breaths.
The ride back to the station house had been...quiet. Frankie had finally ignited his temper when he’d realized she’d gone into that house without him. Watching her disappear into the smoke, every cell in his body had constricted. He tried to tell himself he’d have felt the same way no matter who it had been among his crew, but he wasn’t so sure. And that, more than anything else, unsettled him.
After a shower and a change of clothes, they’d retreated to their respective spots, with Frankie in the kitchen and Roman in the office. His irritation had lowered to a simmer.
He returned to the stove and lit the burner. “Report’s filed.”
“Great.”
“Not really, no.” He leaned against the counter and shoved his hands into his pockets, mainly because he knew otherwise he’d be clenching his fists in frustration. “You never should have gone in that house without backup.”
“Without backup or without you?” Frankie dumped the mix of carrots, celery and onion into an oversize frying pan before reaching for the thyme on the windowsill.
“Without backup. You didn’t respond on your intercom. Why not?”
She swung on him. “I did...so.” Doubt flickered in her eyes.
“Did you? Or was it just you decided not to listen?”
“You were wasting time.”
“I was finding the right way to approach Amelia.” In his experience, keeping a calm tone, even when angry, revealed the other person’s true intentions and thoughts. “Shirley told me Amelia’s doll would be the only thing she would be worried about. She wouldn’t have any concept of her own safety. So by approaching Amelia in that sense, we got her out faster and easier than fighting her.”
“And the music box?”
“Her father made it for her. And it calms her down.” He prided himself on being able to control his emotions, but if things continued along this route, his temper was going to get the better of him and his professionalism would take a hit. “When we have time on a call, I open every door that’s available, literally and figuratively, Frankie. The fires aren’t just about the fires. They’re about the people they affect.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Hostility radiated from her.
“You’re letting whatever residual animosity you have over losing the promotion impact how you do your job. I won’t work like that, Frankie. I can’t. I can learn the secret codes and the ins and outs of this town, but I can’t have someone at my back I don’t trust and who doesn’t trust me.”
“Trust is earned.” Her tone had softened, he hoped by honest reflection.
“Yes, it is. And so far, you haven’t earned mine. I’ve apologized all I’m going to for accepting this job, even though I didn’t owe you an apology in the first place. Whatever issues you and Gil have, work it out between you and keep me out of it. Keep it out of the station. You need to decide and decide fast if you can find a way to work with and for me. Otherwise we’re both putting Butterfly Harbor and its people in danger.”
“Knock, knock! Anyone home?” Knuckles rapped on the door frame, and Roman looked over to a man who could only have been Frankie’s brother. He had the same frame to his face, and the same lively eyes, only where Frankie’s sparked like dormant flame most times, this man’s were alight with humor. “I’ve got my infamous green bean casserole with bacon and... I’m interrupting, something, aren’t I?”