Page 32 of Fire Harbor
“I know you’ve already found stuff about the bridge. But could you possibly check online for more accounts from people who’ve encountered anything weird? Look for any eyewitness accounts of anything strange or out of the ordinary.”
“No problem. I’m happy to help. Want me to write them down?”
“That’s not necessary. Maybe provide links to the stories, though. Look, I’ve got to run now but I’ll see you in the morning. I was really looking forward to us spending our first night with each other.”
“I haven’t rescinded the offer, Linus. You can stay over if you want.”
His voice perked up. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Call if you need anything. Stay safe. Okay?”
She heard a click on the other end of the phone and then the line went dead. “Linus? Are you there?”
But there was only silence. She glared at the phone in her hand to find zero bars available. No internet service, no phone provider. She stared at the screen and got up to check the landline. She went over to the desk and picked up the receiver. And just her luck, the vintage moss green phone with its rotary dial from the 1970s was as useless as her shiny sleek Apple iPhone.
Oh, how she hated thunderstorms and how they impacted modern conveniences. What had her ancestors done without the internet?
She endured the interruption until the storm finally calmed down around ten. The wind that had howled so loud earlier was a mere whisper through the trees. The once furious rain was now reduced to a gentle spatter against the windows.
She tried taking the dogs out to the backyard to do their business, but the lawn was a muddy mess. So were her poor plants. Every flower and vegetable had taken a beating. Of all the tulips, the purple rows had taken the worst of the rain and wind.
After twenty minutes, the dogs were eager to get back inside where it was warm. In the sunroom, she used towels to dry off their wet fur and dirty paws until they were clean enough to take upstairs.
While she brushed her teeth, the trio of dogs sprawled out on top of her grandmother’s quilt. She winced, realizing a second labradoodle made things unbelievably crowded, even in a king-sized bed. She tried getting Scout and Jack to scoot over, but all three seemed drowsy with sleep.
Making a snap decision, Lake grabbed a blanket out of the storage box at the foot of the bed and headed downstairs to the front room. The temperature had dropped making the room feel too chilly for sleeping. Getting kicked out of her own bedroom had its challenges. She added two more logs to the dwindling fire before grabbing her laptop and settling down on the sofa.
After booting up the computer, she realized the internet was back. For the next several hours she drilled down deeper into sightings on the bridge, some rumors, some myths, and saved the links for Linus to read later.
She fell asleep imagining what Linus had in mind for their first night together. In her dreams, they made love under a starry sky, in front of a crackling fire, their bodies coming together in a dance of passion and longing, their hearts beating as one. As the embers of the fire faded into the background, the darkness deepened. Lake found herself embraced by an overwhelming sense of belonging; one she’d never felt before with anyone else.
Chapter Eight
By two A.M., things inside the ER began to return to normal. At that point, Linus had spent almost twelve straight hours in crisis mode, picking up patients who needed immediate care, transporting them if they needed to be admitted, and then treating all kinds of emergencies—from broken bones to heart ailments—inside the hospital. He had no reason to complain, though. Other staff members had been on duty longer than he had.
Bone-tired, Linus and Deke clocked out at three. The night air felt crisp and cool. Everything smelled of damp earth. The clouds were still hanging around, but to the west, Linus could see patches of starry sky and shafts of moonlight filtering through. “Looks like the worst of it is over.”
Deke blew out a tired breath. “None too soon if you ask me. Listen, can I bend your ear about something? I need advice, although you might think it sounds a little strange?”
“Sure,” Linus stated in a halfhearted attempt to dodge the conversation. He took the time to glance up and down Ocean Street, quiet this time of night, and bathed in the soft glow of streetlights that stretched out their silhouettes across the pavement. “If I don’t have to think too hard for an answer, that is.”
“You’ve worked with Brian Sandoval before, right? You know who he is?”
“Sure. I worked with him six years ago on a regular basis. A couple of times recently. Why?”
“Since his wife divorced him to marry a firefighter, he’s been acting weird. It’s not like him.”
Linus furrowed his brow. “Like how weird? Are you suggesting he has anger issues or something worse? He’s not about to climb a tower and start shooting people, is he?”
But when he noticed Deke’s solemn reaction, Linus reversed course. “That was a joke. Seems like you’re really worried.”
Deke nodded. “I have seen him exhibit a few explosive outbursts lately. But I chalked it up to his divorce or maybe just plain stress. Being verbally aggressive isn’t the reason that I’m worried, though. I found out he’s signed up on at least eight dating sites. And those are the ones I’m aware of.”
‘What’s strange about that?”
“Linus, Brian’s not using his real name,” Deke clarified. “He’s created like eight fake accounts with different profile names. It’s weird.”
“How do you know that?”
“I accidentally saw his phone yesterday. It freaked me out. I’ve known the guy for fifteen years before he was even married. But what I saw yesterday gave me the creeps. Put yourself in a woman’s shoes. Let’s say she starts a relationship with Brian but later finds out he used an alias when he signed up. I mean, the guy’s going all the way to Santa Cruz to hook up with these women, purposefully not linking up with anyone around San Sebastian. No, anyone local might recognize him as the EMT down the street. If you ask me, it says a lot about his state of mind.”