“And then she would relay her message. I’m surprised you called it out correctly, though. Most agencies call it out opposite the way we do. We call out our personal call sign and then the person we’re calling to.”
He was right—the fire department did it the opposite way. “I heard Ben call out during my interview.”
“Very good,” Greg said.
Antonio smiled. I looked away.
“We do this because sometimes you won’t hear who is calling, but you’ll likely catch your own call sign when it’s at the end.”
Brock was writing notes furiously. Shayla picked at her nails. How would they have reacted to seeing a dead body?
“Okay, Shayla, would you like to try?” Greg asked.
We each went through the motions of using the radio several times. Shayla and Brock had obviously never used a radio before, but by the end of the day they seemed to have gotten the hang of it.
“We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning for more training. Rylie, you won’t need to lock up with Ben tonight. We don’t want to burn you out so early in the season.”
Antonio followed us down the stairs and out into the parking lot. Shayla walked with me while Brock spewed questions at Antonio like a kid on too many packets of Fun Dip.
“Today wasn’t too bad,” Shayla said.
“Did you think it would be?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know what to think. My mom always made it sound like being in law enforcement was scary and challenging, both mentally and physically.”
“I don’t think this is real law enforcement—not like the police anyway.”
Shayla reached up and twirled a long strand of curly blonde hair. “Sissy enforcement. That’s what Mom called it when I told her I got the job. I’ve never been as tough as she is.”
“It’s not sissy enforcement. It’s just different. This is a good way to dip your toe in,” I said. “Plus, we get these stylish uniforms.”
Shayla laughed and looked down at the stomach roll overtaking her belt. “We should all go out tonight and celebrate our first day.”
“Can my wife come?” Brock asked.
“Uh . . . sure,” Shayla said.
“I’ll come for a bit.” I smiled.
“Awesome.” Shayla’s face lit up. “I know the perfect place just down the road.”
Antonio looked at me and quirked an eyebrow.
Nope. No way. I wasn’t inviting a married guy out to the bar.
“You can come too, Antonio, if you’d like . . .” Shayla’s cheeks blossomed as if she had been stung by angry red ants.
Antonio shrugged. “I’ll see if I have plans.”
I silently urged him to have plans.
I followed Shayla in her yellow Volkswagen Beetle straight from the reservoir to a little hole in the wall wings joint that was already crowded on a late Monday afternoon.
“I know the bartender.” She ushered us through the crowd. “My mom always used to bring me here after her shifts.”
“Your mom brought you to a bar?” I asked.
“Yep. Best wings in town.”
Brock was still in his ’91 Ford Taurus, talking on the phone.
“I hope Antonio comes,” Shayla said over the crowd.
“I don’t,” I said under my breath. I knew his type. Always looking for something better. Never satisfied. He probably had a beautiful wife at home that he’d grown bored of, so he decided to hit on the summies. He was like a catfish to stink bait. Or a fisherman to catfish. I shook my head. It had only been two days and the job had already begun to permeate my thoughts.
The high-top table in the corner of the dimly lit bar was just big enough for the three of us. Near the door was a long bar with mirrors hung on the wall behind. Two tiny women moved effortlessly, slinging drinks to all the off-duty cops while neon signs lit their features.
“Shayla, Rylie, this is my wife, Bella.” Brock stood next to the most adorable woman I’d ever seen. She was tiny with braided chocolate brown hair and matching puppy dog eyes surrounded by crazy long eyelashes.
“It’s nice to meet both of you. I was so excited when Brock asked me to come along tonight.”
Shayla and I were in shock. How could such a sweet woman be with such a tool?
“Uh . . . it’s nice to meet you too,” I finally said.
“Yeah, it is. Really nice.” Shayla smiled.
“I’m so proud of him, you know?” Bella started as Brock took her jacket and pulled the stool out for her. “It was a huge blessing when he got the job. Even if it wasn’t exactly what we hoped for, it’ll help us pay the bills.”
She looked at Brock as if he was Superman.
“Well, we’re happy for him too,” Shayla replied. “Should we order?”
We each ordered a beer from the tap and a bucket of “to-die-for” wings.
“I understand why your mom liked this place so much,” I said to Shayla over the sound of voices and music. “It looks like there are mostly cops here.”
“Yeah, I know most of them. They worked with Mom.”
“Maybe you could put in a good word for me.” Brock straightened up and glanced around while Bella held his hand and listened to the conversation.
“Uh, I’ll see what I can do,” Shayla said without looking up from her beer. “So Rylie, you were a firefighter?”
“Yeah, up in the mountains for Big Mountain Fire Department.”
“It’s gorgeous up there. Why’d you leave?” Shayla seemed sweet enough, but I wasn’t about to go into my whole crazy history. Especially not in front of Brock and Bella.
“Just needed some space . . .”
“Running away from something, huh?” Brock asked.
“I guess you could say that.” I sipped my beer. “But I like to think I’m running toward something better.” What a load of cow shit. No way my parents’ basement and a summer job with no room for advancement was better than my life had been in the mountains. Well, at least before I’d lost my job, found my boyfriend cheating, and realized I was the only one in the entire town who didn’t know about his infidelity.
Brock chugged the rest of his beer. “We should probably go. Bella has
