Page 28 of Her Silver Fox Firefighters
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Tell you what,” Melinda says, glancing over to the remaining tables. I hadn’t noticed the crowd thinning over the past half hour, having been so busy flanking her on the table service, among other things. “Take a ten-minute break, maybe call Chloe’s parents and see where she’s at. Worst case, I can get Carlos to reach out to the Devon sheriff, maybe do a wellness check. I know these law enforcement types often help each other out.”
“That’s not necessary,” I reply, instantly alarmed by the prospect. “I’m sure she’s fine, probably stuck in some unending seminar or something.”
Melinda gives me a curious look. “Okay, well, take ten minutes either way, hon. I can handle the rest of these folks.”
“Are you sure, Mel?”
“Yes. I don’t want you burning out this soon,” she laughs wholeheartedly. “Besides, you’ll be back just in time to helpme clear tables eight and nine. They look like they’re about to ask for the check.”
I give Melinda a slight nod of appreciation and take my service apron off, then head out through the back door into a small courtyard nestled behind the building. I try calling Chloe again. There’s still no answer, so I try her parents.
“Disconnected? What the hell,” I mutter, my concern swelling as I realize that while Chloe’s phone is just off, her parents’ line was taken down completely. “That can’t be right,” I say out loud.
I go online and check theDevon Gazette, one of the local newspapers. They’re usually up to speed on the happenings in town. Maybe there was a bad storm or something.
“Oh, God,” I whisper, my knees turning to jelly as I read the headline.
FATAL CAR CRASH KILLS CITY HALL EMPLOYEES
Chloe’s parents work at City Hall. I read through the article, my fingers trembling as I struggle to hold the phone as their names come across the screen.Joseph and Elizabeth…
“No, no, no…”
Their portraits pop up next to an image from the car crash. I recognize the SUV, mangled and turned upside down at the foot of the old stone bridge. I know exactly where it happened.
Two bodies were recovered, and while it is believed that their daughter, Chloe, was in the car with them, Sheriff Bennett says the search is still underway to retrieve her body.
Oh God. This can’t be happening.
Nothing about it makes any sense, and as much as I don’t want to slip down the rabbit hole of conspiracy theories, I know Marcus must’ve had something to do with this, so I keep reading, hoping for some kind of personal angle from the reporter.
Official sources say there was no sign of foul play, but one eyewitness described a black pickup fleeing the scene of the accident mere moments after the SUV went over the bridge.
My blood runs cold as ice.
My heart breaks into a million little pieces as I cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, Chloe made it out alive. If there’s no body, then maybe she survived.
But now her parents’ deaths are on my head, maybe hers, too.
Oh God, please let her be alive.
I shake my head and the thoughts away, then slip my phone back into my pocket and go back to work.
By the time the afternoon sun shines into the diner with its incandescent glow from the western horizon, the place is mostly empty. Melinda is resting at home while her husband prepares the kitchen workstations for the dinner crowd. We’re expecting quite a few folks tonight since the Thursday specials are a local favorite.
I check my phone. There’s nothing new online about the accident.
No text or callback from Chloe either.
“There she is,” Beck says with a smile as he comes in. Dax and Leo are right behind him.
With a little effort, I muster a weak smile in return, wishing I could find all the comfort I need in their presence, but my worries are all-consuming, relentlessly gnawing at my stomach. “Hey, guys,” I manage. “Slow day at the station?”
“Let’s pray it stays that way,” Dax says. “The town is still reeling from that glass factory fire. The funerals were held earlier today.”
“What’s up with you?” Leo asks me.
