Page 57 of Backdraft
My heart raced on the drive over. By the time I pulled into the lot at the station, I had better control. The anger still simmered, but a new emotion began to take root. And I didn't like it.
For the first time, I was scared. All this shit was disquieting and was making me angry as well. The threats were getting worse and more sinister in nature. Before getting out of the truck, I looked around and checked my mirrors to make sure no one was lurking around my vehicle.
I put the paper in an empty file folder, got out, and all but ran into the station. Taylor was already waiting for me.
"What, did you fly here?"
"I was closer."
I fell into his arms, his presence giving me strength. I clung to him, holding back the tears of frustration. Damn, the last thing I wanted was to be this wilting violet. My body trembled, and I couldn't stop it.
"It's alright. Now let’s go talk to the duty desk sergeant, yes?"
I nodded and quickly swiped the back of my hand over my cheeks. "Okay."
"Right, come on. Do you want to do the talking or me?"
I looked up at him. "I can do it. It just means a lot that you're here with me now. This is getting way too much." After checking in with the duty desk, we sat in the chairs to wait. About ten minutes later, an officer called us in.
"Hey, Tay. Surprised to see you here."
"Yeah, I'm here for moral support. Drea is here to see you."
The officer pulled out a chair for me and Taylor and shifted his belt so he could also sit.
"So, Drea, tell me what this is about?"
I put the folder on the table, flipped it open, and turned it around so he could see.
He leaned over, and with the tip of his pen, pulled the folder toward him.
"Okay," he said. "Can you give me some context around this?"
He didn't look alarmed or worried, just like it was an everyday occurrence for someone to come into the station and show him such a gruesome image.
My anger spiked. Not at him, but it certainly did come across that way.
"This is a new one, I just got it today. There have been others." My voice shook, and my words were rushed. Taylor's hand settled on my thigh, calming me. I drew in a shaky breath.
The officer didn't look offended at my tone. He just quietly watched me. I needed to get it together. I was a professional, after all, and this sort of thing should be much easier to handle.
"Sorry. I'm pissed off, and I hate to admit I’m scared too. This isn't the first time either. I filed a report on vehicle damage a couple of weeks ago."
"Do you have the occurrence number?"
"I do." I opened my bag, took the slip of paper out of my wallet, and gave him the number. He pulled it up on the computer. He was nodding his head and read the file.
"Ah, okay. You're the new fire marshal. I see your other report here. This does seem to be a bit of an escalation."
"Yes, I thought so," I said, agreeing with him.
"Right, I want you to write down what happened." He pushed a pad of paper and pen over to me. While I started to make notes, he continued, "You have no idea who could be doing this?" he asked.
I glanced at him and shook my head. "No. I just moved here for this job a few weeks ago, and I'm surprised that any of this is happening. I'm a private person, and not many people knew I was moving here. But?—
"But?" the cop repeated.
I grimaced. "Sunday morning, we were having breakfast at Kali's, and I thought I saw someone out the window that looked familiar."
