Fireproof

CHAPTER 48

Sam felt relieved, even though Jeffery was in a foul mood. It had turned black—directly to black, no gray—as soon as they brought the last person out. Alive!

Seven survivors. No dead bodies.

Jeffery’s immediate response: “What a fucking waste of a day.”

Sam realized she was probably just as bad as Jeffery, because her relief didn’t come from the news that everyone had escaped safely, but rather because Jeffery wouldn’t be using any of her footage. Especially not the footage she had purposely messed up of Jeffery’s exchanges with Patrick and Agent O’Dell.

“Big Mac will cut this entire afternoon to a couple of minutes,” Jeffery huffed as he yanked his tie loose and almost snapped off the top button of his shirt. “He’s already said, ‘No dead bodies, no story.’ Doesn’t even matter that it’s churches. Or that you’d need a chemistry course to time these sons of bitches.”

“Are you sure he’s not interested? Two churches in the middle of the day? And in Arlington? It’s not like the warehouses in a homeless district that nobody cares about.”

She stopped herself as she broke down her equipment. Did she really just say that? Jesus! She really was starting to sound like Jeffery.

“I talked to him earlier. Said he needed something to keep this story alive.”

Jeffery stood watching her. Usually he’d leave her to do this by herself, but he needed a ride back to the diner where he’d left his car.

“He loved the crap out of my profile on O’Dell,” Jeffery said. “Wait till he sees the interview with the mother.”

Sam felt a momentary twitch. Would he be wanting the nonexistent footage after all? She hadn’t known about the interview. Jeffery had invited O’Dell’s mother to come down to the news station, so he hadn’t needed Sam.

“Hey, maybe I can help you out.”

She and Jeffery both startled. Neither of them had noticed the firefighter come over to them from behind the crime scene tape. He pushed back his hat and the first thing Sam noticed was how clean he was—no black smears on his face, no sweaty hair, no smoke or soot anywhere on him. Even his boots were dry.

He looked about Sam’s age—around thirty—short and muscular, though the latter was difficult to judge under his heavy uniform. He had a square jaw, a nose that looked like it might have been broken at least once, and narrow, deep-set eyes that traveled too slowly over Sam’s body. Usually that sort of thing didn’t bother her. She wasn’t sure why it did now. What was it about this guy that didn’t feel right?

“From what I hear,” Jeffery said, “there’s not much to tell.”

“I recognized you when you were talking to my partner earlier. You’re Jeffery Cole from CNN.”

Sam almost laughed. She should have looked away. She already knew what Jeffery’s response would be.

Too late.

She saw him smile and his chest practically puffed out as he straightened his tie.

“What is it you think you can help us with, Mr. Firefighter?”

“Actually my name’s Wes Harper. I’m a private firefighter with Braxton Protection Agency.”

“Private? I didn’t realize there was such a thing. That’s interesting, but I don’t think we need any more footage.”

“I saw that piece you did last night.”

Now that Jeffery had decided this guy wasn’t one of the “real” firefighters and that he wasn’t interested, he had started to shut down, like an actor done with his role and donning his own persona. Even his smile waned, polite because he couldn’t resist a compliment and would certainly wait for this guy’s, but beyond that Sam could see he was no longer interested in resuming his role as Jeffery Cole, investigative interviewer.

“I know you’d probably rather interview my partner, but since he turned you down maybe I could fill in.”

“That’s nice of you, but I think we’re good.”

“Aren’t you doing like a part two on his sister tonight?”

Sam almost dropped the lens she had taken off and was carefully putting into its sleeve.

“Excuse me?” Jeffery said, stepping closer to Harper as if he hadn’t heard him. “That young guy, that rent-a-fireman, is Agent O’Dell’s brother?”

“That’s right,” Harper said with a smile, not the least bit bothered by the derogatory remark about his occupation.

“Well, well,” Jeffery said. “It’s certainly a small world, isn’t it?”