The Thousandth Man

  Part 4

Michaela slid the steaks into the broiler when she heard the shower shut off. Johnny hadn’t returned from the DeSoto’s until seven o’clock that evening. Not long after he’d fixed the car and eaten lunch, the kids had gotten home from school. But before that, Joanne had happened to mention a stuck window in the bedroom. That had taken Johnny over a half hour to repair. After that, he got roped in to helping the kids with homework, followed by a little play time outside. They missed their dad. Who else would throw a softball with Chris or teach Jenny to roller skate? Someone had to fill that gap, and Johnny couldn’t refuse the longing in their eyes.

He’d practically staggered into the house, exhausted not only from the work, but from the added stress of being around Joanne all day. Trying to take care of all the things she needed help with and her emotional needs on top of it were draining.  Her talk of a funeral today almost sent him over the edge.

But every time he began to think it was too much, he thought of Roy. It almost felt like his best friend was hovering over his shoulder, watching, anxious to know that he could count on Johnny to take care of his family. John couldn’t let Roy down. He’d made up his mind that he would pick up the slack until Roy could return, no matter how long that was.

Michaela put the salad on the table, poured two glasses of Merlot, and pulled the steaks out of the broiler. She’d been so angry that morning when Johnny had left right in the middle of their lovemaking. It seemed like they’d only just moved in together, started some semblance of a life together, and then everything got turned upside down before they had a chance to enjoy it.

As the day wore on, the anger dissipated, and she decided it wouldn’t do any good to stay mad. She had to admit that she was seeing an undiscovered side of Johnny, and she admired the loyalty and devotion he was showing Roy and his family. It was a good indication of how he would treat her in the future, should they ever marry. There was no point in being mad; eventually things would get back to normal. It was her intention tonight to make up for the time they’d lost that morning.

The shower had been turned off for almost twenty minutes, and Johnny never appeared. Annoyed that the dinner was getting cold, Mick went to summon him. Picking up the wine glasses, she decided to bring him a glass to enjoy in the bedroom; maybe she’d have to just warm dinner back up later. Smiling to herself, she headed down the hall.

The sight before her couldn’t have been more disappointing. Johnny lay sprawled on the bed, the towel he’d used for his shower still wrapped loosely around his waist. He looked dead to the world.

She decided to let him sleep. It would be better for them both that way. Right now she was feeling a resurrection of the anger she’d had that morning when she’d been once again cheated out of time with her man. While she understood how Joanne must feel, she couldn’t help her own feelings of resentment, and rejection. Not trusting herself to keep that anger at bay, she didn’t have the energy to start another argument.

They’d had more than their share of fights lately; the littlest thing seemed to set Johnny off. He’d become so volatile since Roy died, like nitroglycerine, she thought in her mind. And he thinks I’ve got a short fuse. Sighing in defeat, she backed out of the room and went to eat dinner alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joanne DeSoto closed the door and leaned against it shakily. She thought that man would never leave. Her heart was racing with anxiety, and after the insurance agent’s endless grilling, she felt uncertain as to whether she would even be able to collect on the policy that Roy had purchased. Peering out the window, she watched him retreat with relief, his waddle-like walk unhurried on the way to his Chevy Vega.

She’d expected to only have to answer a few simple questions, and instead David Martin had practically given her the third degree. He’d acted as if it were her fault that Roy had died. All she could do was to tell him what she knew of the accident, but most of the details were based on what Johnny and the Department had told her.

Martin gave her the creeps. His unibrow seemed fraught with consternation; underneath pouchy eyes roamed the room as they’d talked. It was after he’d spied their wedding picture that he’d asked if they’d been happily married, his tone insinuating that they weren’t. After that, she’d found it difficult to even be civil with the man.

Now worried that she hadn’t been cordial enough, she lamented that his opinion of her might hold some weight in the issuance of the policy. He seemed like the type of man who could make things difficult if he disliked you. Nervously, she prayed that Johnny would make a better impression, since Martin had mentioned that he would be interviewing her husband’s partner.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chet Kelly looked up from his comfortable position next to Henry on the dayroom couch upon hearing the knock at the kitchen door. “Hey, Marco, would you get that, man?

Marco didn’t recognize the figure behind the glass door. He turned disgustedly to Chet, his hands dripping soapy bubbles onto the counter as he did so. “Chet, my hands are all wet. You get it; you’re not doing anything important.”

 “Not important? I’ll have you know I’m studying how sea captains used to navigate by using the stars. Might come in handy some day. Setting his book aside, he got up to answer it.

“With the smog around here, who ever sees any stars?” Marco mumbled as Chet walked past. “You oughta read up on how to navigate around trouble so ya don’t spend your whole career cleaning the latrine.”

Chet scowled at Marco and opened the door. A smile revealing a chipped front tooth broke out on the short, early fortyish man standing before him.

Chet held on to the edge of the doorframe as he stood next to it. “Hi. Can I help you?”

The man removed his hat and bowed slightly. “Hello. I’m looking for John Gage.”

Chet opened the door wider. “Oh, well, he’s not here right now. He’s out on a run.”

Martin frowned disappointedly. “Oh. When do you expect him back?”

Kelly looked at his watch. “Actually, should be any time now. He’s been gone almost an hour and a half. Can I give him a message for you, mister…ah…”

“Martin. David Martin. Uh, would it be possible for me to wait for him?”

Chet shrugged. “Sure. But I can’t guarantee when he’ll be back. He might get another call. Come on in if you want.” He held the door open wider and Martin stepped in.

Martin’s gaze swept across the room. He’d never been in a fire station before. This room didn’t seem very exciting. Somehow he’d expected to see a fireman sliding down a fire pole or something. A kitchen wasn’t what he’d expected. Well, I guess firemen have to eat sometimes too.

“Have a seat.” Chet gestured to the kitchen table. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Why, yes. Thank you.” Martin reached for the ashtray on the table, then fished a pack of Camels out of his coat pocket.

Chet put two cups of coffee down on the table, one for each of them, then sat down across from his guest. His curiosity was killing him. What did this guy want with Gage, he wondered. “Ah, so what line of business are you in, Mr. Martin?”

“Insurance.” Martin reached back into his jacket pocket and withdrew a business card, handing it to Chet.

Chet scrutinized the card. He was from ‘American Mutual Life’. “Insurance, eh? Huh. So, is Gage buying a policy of some sort?”

Martin smiled tightly. Nosy son of a bitch. “No, no. I’m here to talk to him about Roy DeSoto. He was a client of ours.”

Chet regarded the man for a few seconds, his face void of understanding. “Oh. I see. So…why do you want to talk to Johnny?”

Boy, he’s got a lot of nerve. “Well, Mrs. DeSoto has informed us of her husband’s passing. I’m just here to verify the details of the death. Before we can approve the claim, we need to talk to everyone who was involved in Mr. DeSoto’s disappearance. Since there was no body found, you understand. It’s just standard procedure.”

Chet’s eyes finally lit up with understanding. “Ohhh, I get it. This is about a life insurance policy.”

 Martin smiled and nodded condescendingly at Chet.

“So, uh, how long have you been selling insurance, Mr. Martin?”

Martin looked down his nose at Chet. “Actually I’m a claim adjuster and investigator. I don’t sell insurance.”

“Oh. So how long have you been an adjuster?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Wow. That’s a long time. More coffee?”

Martin smiled. “Yes please, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Chet got up eagerly and returned with the coffee pot. “So you’re here to talk to Johnny about the accident?”

“Yes. I understand he was Mr. DeSoto’s partner?”

“Yeah.”

“Were they close?”

“Yeah. Pretty much best friends. Kind of weird, as different as they are from each other. But yeah, they were like brothers.” Chet paused thoughtfully, growing somber as the conversation reminded him that he’d never see Roy again. His voice was softer when he spoke again. “We’re all like that with each other to a certain extent.” Chet looked toward the doorway, then back. He leaned forward. “It’s been pretty hard on Gage; not having much family of his own; Roy’s family has kind of adopted him. So he’s been helping Roy’s wife and kids with things a lot. I mean, we all have been helping her out, but Johnny especially.”

Hmm. Martin nodded thoughtfully, careful to keep his expression sympathetic. “Really? That’s very kind of him.” Nonchalantly, Martin leaned back in his chair and scratched the back of his neck. A cigarette dangled casually from his other hand. He looked at Chet out of the corner of his eye and smiled, winking. “Or maybe he just likes his friend’s wife.”

Marco turned around from his place at the kitchen sink, appalled at what he’d heard. He looked expectantly at Chet, waiting for his reproof. Chet’s brow furrowed, followed by a look of revulsion. “Hey man, you couldn’t be farther from the truth. Johnny wouldn’t try to make time with Roy’s wife.”

Martin chuckled. “Of course not. I was just kidding. Gage sounds like an honorable man.”

Chet eyed him warily. He was glad Johnny wasn’t there to hear Martin’s scathing comment. “Oh, he is.” Chet decided to overlook the man’s tasteless comment. “But it’s been hard. Johnny’s been having a hard time coping with it, you know? He doesn’t want to believe Roy’s dead.”

Marco threw a worried glance back at Chet, but Chet didn’t seem to notice.

A vein in his neck pulsed and Martin worked to appear unaffected by Chet’s comment. The insurance adjuster blew out one last puff of smoke and crushed his cigarette butt out in the ashtray. “I can understand that. It’s…hard to accept reality sometimes in cases like this.”

“It is.”

The next sentence came out as casually as he could muster. “Do you think there’s any possibility that he could be alive?”

“Roy?” Chet shook his head. “I’d say it’d be a million to one if he was.”

Martin nodded. “Most likely.”

The two men sat there in quiet for a few moments, then the silence was interrupted by the sounds of the squad returning.

Chet stood up. “Hey, there they are now.”

Martin righted himself in his chair and turned expectantly toward the doorway.

Gil entered first, his face somber. He didn’t even acknowledge David Martin as he walked by and plopped down onto the sofa with a sigh.

Johnny came through a moment later, looking equally solemn. It hadn’t been a good run; they’d lost the cardiac case they’d been toned out to. He headed for the coffee pot without a glance at the stranger.

Captain Stanley entered a few steps behind Johnny, a stack of papers in his hands.

“Hey, Johnny. Someone’s here to see you.” Chet gestured toward Martin as Gage turned around.

Johnny stared at him without recognition, then glanced warily back at Chet.

“John, this here is David Martin. He’s from American Mutual Insurance Company. He wants to talk to you about Roy.”

David stood up, took a few steps toward Gage, offering his hand. “If you have a few moments?”

Johnny observed him guardedly. The last thing he felt like doing right now was to talk to some stranger about Roy. Reluctantly, he took the man’s hand and shook it. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. What’s this concerning, Mr. Martin?

David explained, same as he had for Chet. “Uh, perhaps…we could talk privately?” He stole a quick glance back at Kelly.

Captain Stanley nodded toward the doorway. “John, you can use my office if you want.”

Johnny dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement and wordlessly left the room, David Martin following closely behind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hank Stanley rolled onto his back in his bunk, tucking his hands behind his head. Sleep refused to come tonight, and he found himself wishing for a run.

Try as he might, he couldn’t get his mind off the afternoon, and what had gone down when David Martin had arrived to talk to Johnny. Not only had he been shocked at John’s behavior, but worried by it as well. It wasn’t unusual for Johnny to show his temper occasionally, but as far as he’d known, he’d never seen Johnny act the way he had today in front of the general public. Not while on duty anyway.

About fifteen minutes after the two of them disappeared into his office to talk, Hank heard arguing, loud arguing, and by the time he was through the door to see what was going on, it had escalated to a yelling match between Gage and David Martin out in the engine bay. The first thing he saw was Johnny shove Martin backward with a hand to his chest and yell, ‘Get out!’

Hank interceded immediately, pulling a furious Johnny back by the arm and placing himself physically between the two of them. He held up his hands. “All right, all right, hold on here,” he yelled.

Gage stood like a fuming bull, leaning forward ominously, his jaw clenched.

For a moment Hank thought Gage might just punch Martin. He turned toward Johnny first. “All right, now what seems to be the problem?” he demanded angrily, not entirely certain whom he should be angry with. Nevertheless, no matter who the instigator was, he expected his men to act courteous at all times and set an example for the public. 

“Cap, this scumbag isn’t here to just ‘ask a few questions’ about Roy’s disappearance. He’s already made up his own story to try to get out of paying out on Roy’s life insurance policy.”

Hanks brows rose at John’s scathing tone.

Martin straightened his jacket and casually tapped a cigarette out of his pack. “I simply threw out some possibilities to see his reaction, and it seems obvious that I’ve struck a nerve.”

“What possibilities?” the Cap had asked.

Johnny’s tone was barely controlled, his voice rising as he completed his sentence. “He’s accusing Roy of faking his death in order to collect on his life insurance policy. Not only that, but – ”

“What?! Faked his – ”

David interrupted both men. “I merely hypothesized a scenario, a scenario of a desperate man who may have thought he had no other option. I daresay it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.” He nodded at Johnny. “By your man’s reaction I’d venture that there might be some validity to it. Perhaps…he was even in on it with him.” Martin thumbed his nose at Gage and smiled wickedly. “Or maybe he just wanted DeSoto out of his way. Sounds like Gage here already has a rather close relationship with DeSoto’s wife.”

Hank didn’t have time to register the shock he felt; just keeping Johnny from decking their ‘guest’ took all his attention.

Johnny lunged forward, pushing his captain out of the way, and grabbed a hold of David Martin’s collar, shoving him up against the brick wall. Martin grabbed Johnny’s arms and wrestled with the fireman, but was unsuccessful in detaching himself from the larger and much stronger paramedic. The two men began yelling at one another again.

Upon hearing the commotion, the rest of the crew emerged from the dayroom and gathered around the scene. Stanley reimmersed himself into the fray, joined by Mike and Marco, and struggled to pull Johnny away forcefully. Gil stood awkwardly out of the way, while Chet latched onto David, yanking him in the opposite direction.

 Now Stanley was really angry. “All right! That’s enough!”

The two men broke free of one another. Gage fought against the hands that held him, his expression murderous.

“Gage, my office. Now!”

John looked incredulously at his captain. “What? You’re siding with this guy? After what he said about Roy?”

Hank spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not siding with anyone. Now get going!” Releasing his grip on Gage, he nudged him toward his office.

Johnny stared in wide-eyed incredulity at his captain, then turned abruptly and stalked away. Five steps later he turned, glaring at Martin, but directing his words at his captain. “I never thought I’d see the day that you’d turn on one of your own men. I’ve always thought you were a fair captain, but if you’re going to take this guy’s side, you’re no better than this asshole.”

Johnny knew in that split second that he’d overstepped his bounds by miles, confirmed by the murderous look that he’d never before seen on his captain’s face. His blood ran cold as he realized what a grave mistake he’d made, and as his captain hissed through clenched teeth at him, “Gage, you’re dismissed! Get into my office and stay there!” He backed away, shocked himself at his own behavior.

Hank straightened his shirt with shaky hands in an effort at self control. “Mr. Martin, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’d be glad to.” He glared in Johnny’s direction, sneering, then back at Hank. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been treated so rudely before. You can be assured that Gage’s behavior will be reported to your superiors.” Sniffing, he straightened his tie. “And I’d suggest you take some training on how to control your men.”

Hank towered over the insurance agent, his hard stare almost making the man shrink. “And I’d suggest you leave right now, or would you rather I call the police and have you removed?”

Martin buttoned his jacket, hmphing haughtily before turning to leave, then sauntered out, taking his time. “Wouldn’t be surprised if they were all in on it,” he’d muttered on his way out.   

Hank stared up in the darkness and sighed as he remembered the scene, now hardly able to believe it had happened.

He hadn’t wanted to write Johnny up, but he’d had no choice. His now senior paramedic had become insulting and belligerent not only to Martin, but to him, and insubordination and disrespect was something that this captain would not tolerate, even though Gage had apologized profusely for it later. Johnny had been tottering on the edge for weeks now; today he’d stepped off. Still, Hank wondered if he himself would have been able to show any more self-control after hearing Martin’s insinuations.

Nevertheless, he’d given Gage a thorough tongue lashing after Martin’s departure, and the tones had sounded before Johnny had been given much of an opportunity to voice his side of the story. Not that the Cap would have let him get a word in edgewise anyway. Johnny, having calmed, sat quietly, his head bent in shame during his captain’s rebuke, his only words apologetic.

Now in the dark quiet hours, Hank regretted some of the things he’d said in the heat of the moment, and a fierce proudness took residence in his heart at the demonstration he’d seen today of Gage’s steadfast loyalty to his best friend and partner. He’d never be able to let Gage know it, but deep down Hank admired his gutsy behavior.

Gage’s accusation that he wasn’t a fair captain gnawed at him, even though he knew he’d acted appropriately, and knew that Gage was only reacting, whether rationally or irrationally, according to his emotions at the time. It wasn’t the way John really felt. He hoped. But why hadn’t he defended Roy to that insurance agent? It was because he was too busy trying to break up a fight, he told himself. And maybe because he was more concerned with Gage smearing the image of the fire department (and his own station) than he was about Roy’s reputation. Could that really be true? Roy was one of the best men he’d ever worked with, or would probably ever have under him, so why hadn’t he defended him? Maybe I’m just too darn straight-laced. Or maybe I’ve just been a captain too long.

The soft shush of bed linens being thrown back caught his attention and moments later a shadowy figure crept by and moved out of the dorm. Light from the window illuminated the mass of dark hair as the man passed. Guess I’m not the only one who’s not sleeping. Sighing, he lay there debating whether he should get up and follow.

The next time he opened his eyes it was an hour and a half later. Blinking to focus on the clock, he was startled. Boy, I guess I fell asleep for a few minutes.

His full bladder urged him out of bed, and he spied a light on in the dayroom when he came out of the bathroom and peered through the glass in the door. Barefoot and yawning, he padded quietly across the cold concrete floor and into the kitchen. He shook his head at what he saw.

Gage sat slumped at the table, asleep, his cheek resting on one forearm, the other hand still encircling the cold cup of coffee in front of him.

Stanley looked around. The station was eerily quiet at night and everything was in shadow, the room lit only by the single light Gage had turned on over the stove. His gaze went back to his sleeping paramedic, looking sorrowfully down at him.

Hank sighed deeply. God, what a mess. Maybe Gage was right. Maybe none of this would have happened if they’d simply have traded places that night. He just wished this nightmare had never happened. He wondered what Roy would think of what happened today.

He yawned again, then reached down and gently shook Johnny’s shoulder. Gage’s head popped up, his eyes bleary and confused.

“Most people drink coffee to stay awake.”

Johnny stared at him a moment, then rubbed his eyes. “Well, I guess you already know I’m not like most people.”

Hank smiled wanly. “C’mon, John. Why don’t you turn in?”

“’Kay.” Stiff from the awkward position, he heaved himself up from the table and followed Hank into the dorm. Further argument with his captain was something too remote to even consider.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Johnny rolled over in bed, thankful to hear the wake-up tones. Thank God. The night’s over.

He hadn’t slept a wink. Thoughts about David Martin’s visit and what had happened afterwards had saturated his mind so fully he hadn’t been able to let it go and sleep. As the night deepened, so had his worries, and by morning he was in despair over how he’d handled the situation. I should have kept my cool. I shouldn’t have let him get to me.

It was bad enough that Cap had written him up. David Martin had threatened to file a complaint about him to the Department as well. The new black marks on his record slashed like a switchblade at the pride and reputation he’d worked so hard for. To have his previously pristine record blemished by the likes of David Martin made him sick. So did thoughts of a rebuke by the Chief.

But what could prove to be worse was how his actions might affect Joanne’s insurance claim. He realized now that he may have made a grave error. What if, instead of assuring Martin that Roy had really died an accidental death, he’d only pushed him over the edge and given merit to his suspicions of foul play? Surely Martin wouldn’t let his own personal feelings dictate the outcome of the claim, especially after reading the incident reports. All the evidence of Roy’s death was there…wasn’t it?

Or was it? I know Roy’s still out there…somewhere. Is it right for Joanne to collect life insurance compensation if Roy isn’t really dead?

God I wish I’d never have talked to that asshole. But I can’t change what happened now.

It had started out innocently enough. They’d both taken a seat in the Captain’s office. Johnny had no reason to suspect that the meeting was anything but above board, and so he answered the questions candidly. That had been his first mistake.

“First let me say how sorry I am for the loss of your crewmate.”

John nodded. “Thank you.”

“I understand he was your partner.”

Again, Johnny nodded.

“Were you close?”

“Yeah. He’s my best friend.”

David stopped, looking curiously at Johnny. Is?

“I’ve spoken with his wife. Charming woman.” He paused, looking down at his notes. “Two children?”

“Uh, well, no, they actually have three. They have a baby just a couple months old.”

“Oh. Three. I see.” He looked up, seemingly earnestly. “And how are the children doing?”

Johnny rubbed at the corner of his eye. “Um, well, Chris and Jenny are okay I guess; upset about their dad as you might imagine.”

“And the baby?”

Johnny’s face looked strained and he drew a deep breath. “Uh, well, to tell you the truth, the baby’s ill.”

Martin’s brows rose and he spoke with the utmost sincerity. “Ill? Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that. Hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Unfortunately, it is pretty serious. He was born with a heart defect, and ah, he needs an operation.”

Martin feigned looking aghast. “Why that’s terrible! And with all this happening! When are they going to operate?”

Johnny licked his lips, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy. He wondered if he should have mentioned this to the man, but he seemed sincerely concerned. “Well, as soon as they have enough money, they’ll do it.”

“Don’t the DeSotos have health insurance?”

“Yeah; Roy has insurance, but they won’t cover the surgery because it’s considered experimental. We’ve been trying to raise the money; so far we’ve got about a fourth of what we need, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

Martin was now scrutinizing John, his stare intense, his eyes narrowed. “I see,” he said slowly. “How tragic.” Tearing his eyes away, his gaze dropped to the tablet that he was rapidly making notes on. “So, Mrs. DeSoto has quite a lot on her plate.”

“Yeah, she does. It’s been pretty hard on her.”

“I’m sure it has. I understand you’ve spent quite a lot of time with her since the accident.”

Johnny looked a bit surprised. “I've been helping Jo with things that Roy normally does.”

“Joe?"

“Roy's wife. Jo is short for Joanne.”

“Ah. Well, that's very thoughtful of you.”

Johnny just shrugged.

Martin tilted his head a bit, looking up at Johnny from the corner of his eyes. “You married, John?”

Johnny hesitated. He didn’t like the way Martin was looking at him. “No.”

“So…DeSoto had a good marriage, would you say?”

 Johnny frowned, growing disconcerted with the line of questioning. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

Martin rearranged himself in his seat, smoothing his pants legs. “Oh, no reason, really. I just like to get to know the families I work with. Nice to know something about them. Makes it more personal that way, you know?”

“I guess so.” Johnny shifted uncomfortably, becoming impatient. He didn’t like the subtle innuendos in the tone of Martin’s voice. “Mr. Martin, I thought we were going to be talking about the night Roy disappeared.”

“Yes, we are,” he replied rather curtly, the friendly tone in his voice now gone. Abruptly he asked Johnny to go through the details of what had happened the night of Roy’s disappearance. His tone had changed from concerned and sympathetic to prosecuting attorney.

Glad for the change of subject, yet mystified at the sudden personality change, Johnny went over the details of the night.

“So, why did Mr. DeSoto stay down on the boat and not yourself?”’

Johnny flinched. The words stung, and the guilt he’d been battling to overcome returned like a slap to the face. Johnny answered honestly, wondering if the guilt showed as blatantly on his face as he felt it.

It was impossible to look the other man in the eyes as he stated that Roy was the one who decided that he would stay on the boat and told him to go on up. And it was even harder to explain why. His mind told him that it was simply the way he and Roy worked together, that many times decisions were made with unspoken thoughts or even a look rather than direct communication. But his heart reminded himself of those damning words he’d spoken after the last water rescue, the words that prompted Roy to know that this time was his turn. 

“How convenient,” Martin mumbled from the corner of his mouth at Gage’s explanation.

He questioned John further about why Roy would have made that decision. What would he have based it on? Who would have been the best candidate to stay with the boat in that situation? Johnny answered truthfully each time, mistakenly, he now realized, mentioning that he wished Roy had let him stay below since he was a more experienced sailor.

At that, Martin insisted that Johnny explain in detail why he had more sailing experience, analyzing if Roy had made a competent decision. He badgered Johnny relentlessly about the situation until the paramedic began to feel as if he was being interrogated.

“Look; it’s all in the incident reports,” Johnny finally said, growing increasingly impatient – and angry. Martin was making him feel like he was on trial.

That statement was ignored. Martin turned to questioning Johnny about his search with the Coast Guard. Somewhere in the midst of it Johnny revealed that he’d gone out searching himself after the Coast Guard wouldn’t allow him to accompany them on the second search. Martin jumped on that like a dog chasing a stick. He wouldn’t let it go until he found out exactly how many times Johnny had gone out, what he’d found, and why he continued to search.

There was a long pause, then David looked John squarely in the eyes “You don’t think he’s dead, do you?”

Put in a tight spot, Johnny had hesitated, finally saying, “It doesn’t matter what I think. The Coast Guard, the Harbor Patrol, and the Fire Department have all concluded that Roy was killed on that rescue. There’s been no evidence to suggest otherwise.”

 Not yet. Or at least, not that you’re telling.  Martin only nodded, his face smug.  

Johnny stood up, his patience wearing thin. “Look, Mr. Martin, if you don't have any other questions, then I have work – ”

“I'm not quite done.” He gestured to the chair. “Sit down. Please.”

Johnny didn’t budge. He folded his arms in front of him, his jaw set.

It didn’t seem to faze Martin. “Now I'd like you to tell me about your friend, Mr. DeSoto.”

Johnny stared hard at the man. He answered in a hard voice flat of inflection. “What do you want to know?”

“What kind of man was he? For example, was he honest, in your opinion?”

Johnny’s eyes had narrowed then, and he advanced a step toward the man. “Mr. Martin, exactly what is it that you’re trying to imply?”

“I imply nothing.” He tapped his index finger against his cheek thoughtfully. “The thought occurs to me that it’s a bit strange that a man suddenly disappears and is taken for dead right after he finds out his health insurance company denied a claim that will save his son’s life. And now his spouse is trying to collect on his life insurance policy. Doesn’t that seem a bit strange to you?’

Johnny’s jaw clenched and he glared at the man before him. “The only thing I find strange, Mr. Martin, is I haven’t thrown you out of here yet.”

“My, my, you’re a bit defensive, Mr. Gage. Perhaps you’re feeling a little…guilt?”

Johnny’s voice rose. “Guilt?! About what?”

“Interesting that I should have to spell it out for you, but if I must…guilt that you are spending so much time with your ‘best friend’s’ wife. I mean, it’s completely understandable to be attracted to her, she’s quite an attractive woman. Now I’m just wondering if that might be the reason your friend happened to disappear so suddenly…”

Johnny had an iron fist wrapped around his arm before he finished his sentence. “Get out.”

Martin had trouble stifling his smile. “Well. I seem to have touched a nerve.”

 Now a yell. “Get out!”

And that had started the argument that Captain Stanley had heard.

Johnny lay in bed and closed his eyes, sickened at the whole thing. Man. I really fucked up. He looked around; everyone had left the dorm except him.

“Coffee’s on!” Gage heard from the kitchen.

Glancing at the clock, he sprang into action. He had another shift to cover. Throwing the sheets off, he sprinted toward his locker and began to change into a fresh uniform.

Chet came around the corner a few moments later in his t-shirt and turnout pants, holding a steaming cup of coffee. “Where’s the fire?” he asked facetiously. Johnny continued tucking in his shirt without answering. Chet watched him finish. “What’s your hurry? You pullin’ another shift?”

“Yep.”

“Where?”

“Ten’s.”

Chet looked questioningly at him, observing Gage’s tired, drawn face. “Why? Wasn’t yesterday enough for ya?”

Johnny grimaced at him. “Why? Because I need the money.”

Chet nodded thoughtfully. “Huh. I would have thought now that you’ve got your girlfriend living with you it’d be easier.”

Johnny arched an eyebrow at Chet then worked to pin on his nametag. “She’s got thousands in student loans to pay back. It’ll be years before she breaks even.”

“Oh.” Chet crossed his arms and leaned against the opposite locker. “Guess feeding all those horses gets expensive, huh?”

Johnny stopped for a second, staring at Chet while his mind raced elsewhere. “Huh?” He threw a sideways glance. “Oh. Yeah. It does. I mean, they do. Listen, is Dwyer here yet?”

“Yeah. He walked in about five minutes ago.”

Johnny looked at his watch. “Good.” He grabbed his jacket from his locker and headed toward the door. “See ya.”

Chet raised his hand to wave but Johnny was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hank gathered up a stack of paperwork on his desk and tossed it in the ‘in’ tray. “It’s all yours,” he said to the B-shift captain before him with a grim smile. Patting the man on the shoulder, Hank slid through the door toward the dorm.

He was really looking forward to a day off, especially after yesterday. Shaking his head, he’d decided earlier to ask Gage to go out for breakfast. He figured it was about time for a heart-to-heart talk with Gage, and that maybe doing that away from the station would be less stressful.

Part of the reason that this particular crew worked so well together was because Hank worked hard to keep the lines of communication open. Losing Roy had been a severe strain on everyone, especially Johnny, but enough time had gone by that he felt Gage needed to move forward and quit denying his friend’s death.

It concerned him that Joanne DeSoto said that Johnny was so adamantly against a memorial service for Roy, even after all this time. He was beginning to think that it might benefit John to see the department psychiatrist in order to help him work through his acceptance. He knew Joanne was proceeding with the plans without John’s blessing, which was very hard on her, for Johnny had been the one holding her up all these weeks. Maybe it’s time that someone held John up.

It didn’t take long to discover that John had gone to work another shift, which was the last thing he needed, in this captain’s opinion. Why the hell Gage was picking up so many extra shifts eluded him. That’s one of the things they could have talked about – if they’d been able to meet for breakfast. Sighing, he turned to collect his things and leave.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Beside himself with anticipation, David Martin paced his office. In five minutes he had a meeting with his boss that could change his career, or at least his paycheck.

When Will Freidman reviewed the evidence Martin had gathered against the DeSoto case, he’d most assuredly agree that American Mutual would not be able to pay out any benefits to his widow. He would see that David Martin had single-handedly saved his company thousands of dollars. He’d be the hero of the day. ‘Most valuable employee’. Martin could almost envision his name being etched into that monthly plaque and where he would proudly display it in his office. No, make that his new office, after the promotion. But the best part would be the bonus he received. Quick cash for gambling. The football pools he’d been in were child’s play. He had some real bets to make. He hadn’t been able to call his bookie in weeks. Maybe he could even buy his wife that bigger diamond ring she’d been wanting.

Lost in thought, he didn’t hear Will approach. David jumped when he heard the knock. “Will,” he acknowledged.

His boss entered his office, coughing lightly at the swirl of cigarette smoke dangling in the air. “Mrs. DeSoto called again. Debbie’s got the paperwork all ready if everything’s in order. Are you done with your research?”

Martin put on a serious face and leaned gravely against his desk. He shook his head. “I think this one’s going to be a matter for the police, Will.”

Freidman’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really. Why is that?”

David walked dramatically around his desk for effect, then sat heavily in his chair. He leaned forward, interlacing his fingers across his desk. “I don’t think DeSoto is dead.”

Will looked mildly surprised. “Okay. Tell me why.”

“Here’s the facts: DeSoto has an infant son who needs surgery. Experimental surgery. If he doesn’t get it, he dies. DeSoto’s health insurance plan refuses to pay for it. So then DeSoto just happens to disappear. His wife calls us, wanting to collect on the policy.”

“Could be coincidence. He supposedly died on the job out in the ocean. There were witnesses. What did they say?”

“There were only witnesses who saw him fall in. The rescue crew conveniently had to leave him there because of a storm.” His hand tapped a manila folder on his desk. “You’ll want to look over all the testimonies. I’m sure the court will want to get depositions. Now get this: DeSoto’s partner, a John Gage, who was with him on the rescue, is his best friend. Come to find out, Gage has been spending quite a bit of time with the ‘widow’ DeSoto since his friend disappeared. Says he’s ‘helping her’. Not only that, but Gage hasn’t stopped searching for his friend. I found out he goes out and looks for him on just about every day off he’s got.”

“Where? In the water?”

“That, and on the islands. He rents boats.”

Will looked a bit skeptical. “So…you think DeSoto is faking his death and Gage is in on it? Is that it?”

“It’s one of a couple of things, Will. Either Gage and DeSoto planned the whole thing, and Gage is helping him hide until it all blows over; that would explain why he continues his trips to Catalina to ‘search’ for him. Or…could even be that Gage knocked him off himself, or had him knocked off, then moved in on DeSoto’s wife, and the two of them’ll live comfortably on the life insurance Mrs. DeSoto expects to get. We could even be looking at a murder rap.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a long shift. Fourteen runs, two during the night. The wake-up tones jolted John out of his sleep, what little of it he’d managed to obtain since they’d returned from a fire at three-thirty a.m. Yawning, he sat up, rubbing at his tired eyes.

He watched as the others dressed then slid sleepily down the pole, then followed them down after slipping his feet into boots and pulling up his suspenders and turnouts.

He felt like a zombie. Like someone had stuffed his brain full of cotton. Fortunately, he had the day off. He’d been planning to use it to go back out to the island, but now he didn’t think he could do it. God, these overtime shifts are going to kill me. Oh well, I’ll just rest a bit and drink a pot of coffee. That ought to do it. Thought of spending the entire day searching again was not appealing. It was an arduous task and one that had become more and more of a letdown as his lack of discovering any new information grew bleaker.

Once home, the soft cotton sheets of his bed beckoned him to crawl under them. He wished that Mick wasn’t working and that she were there to snuggle up against him. Any more it seemed like they barely saw one another.

The pot of coffee forgotten, quiet enveloped him and he was asleep in minutes. But reprieve didn’t come. Only two hours into unconsciousness the phone jolted him awake. His heart pounded as an arm flailed for the phone, knocking the handset off the hook and on to the floor.

As he groped for the receiver, he recognized the tinny but unmistakably anguished voice of Joanne urgently calling his name. Silently cursing, he fumbled with the phone and got it to his ear. “He – hello?”

“Johnny? Johnny! Oh, thank God you’re there! I think Jimmy’s stopped breathing!”

Instant adrenalin surged through his body and he talked her through the artificial respiration, telling her that he would call a squad and to start rescue breathing. Fortunately, the baby still had a pulse. “Is his chest rising and falling now, Joanne?” he asked urgently.

A moment went by and a breathless and tear-filled “Barely…I guess,” came through the receiver.

“Okay. Good. You’re doing good. Keep going, Joanne. You know what to do. I’ll have a squad there in minutes. I’m on my way!” He didn’t wait for her to answer before slamming down the phone and calling for a squad.

He stumbled around his bedroom pulling on clothes and rushed out the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hank Stanley examined his lineup of men, minus one. Irritated, he glanced at his watch. As the muffled sound of Gage’s truck floated through the back bay door, he looked up expectantly.

Johnny flew through the door seconds later, already in his uniform. The clack of his boots hitting the concrete echoed through the engine bay as he hurried into the line.

“Sorry, Cap!”

Stanley studied his disheveled paramedic as he yanked off his jacket, threw it to the side, and began tucking in the back shirttail of his uniform. Johnny was breathing heavily; his hair was uncombed. The Captain could tell he hadn’t shaven by the shadow of a mustache; Gage’s face rarely got dark enough to show the beginnings of a beard. His eyes were bloodshot and his usually tanned face looked pale.

Hank took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. The morning had already gotten off to a bad start; an unhappy call from the Chief had greeted him five minutes after arriving. McConnike wanted to discuss a complaint that David Martin had made with the department about Gage. Though he’d already written Johnny up and given him a thorough chewing out, now he’d be forced to talk to Gage again.

Attempting to explain why it had happened seemed fruitless; all Stanley could do was to tell the Chief that Gage had received the proper disciplinary action, and assure him that it wouldn’t happen again. The fact that Gage’s actions not only reflected badly on his station, but on himself as well made him the angriest. It was somewhat tempered with the awareness that though he wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone else, he himself might have reacted the same way, had he been in John’s shoes.

“Gage, I saved the latrine and the dorm for you. When you get done with that, you can clean out the equipment closet and mop the floor in the engine bay. After that I want to see you in my office.”

Gage swallowed, embarrassed at the open rebuke. He wished the floor would just open up and swallow him, but he had important news to deliver. “Yes, Sir. Cap, I can explain why I’m late.” He gazed sincerely at his captain, then around at the others. “You guys should know about this too.”

“I’m all ears, pal.” Hank patiently folded his arms across his chest.

“Well, I was up half the night with Joanne.”

Stanley’s eyebrows shot up, and the rest of the men looked at each other in mock astonishment.

Johnny pressed his lips together in annoyance. “You guys are disgusting; get your mind out of the gutter.”

Chet’s eyes were wide with innocence. “Hey we didn’t say a thing.”

Gage drew in a deep breath and blew it out. He looked beseechingly at the Cap. “Jimmy’s back in the hospital.”

Five expressions suddenly turned solemn.

“Oh, no,” Marco moaned.

Gil looked at his partner in concern. “What happened, John?”

“He stopped breathing again. She called me yesterday morning. I called a squad. Went over there and met the paramedics, then took her to the hospital.”

Chet slid his hands into his pockets. “So how’s he doing?”

Johnny shook his head. “Not good. They got him breathing again, but he’s weak. His heart’s starting to give out. They’ve got him on life support.”

Hank rubbed the back of his neck to ease a kink, the wind in his reprimand sails suddenly died. “Oh boy,” he said glumly. “And so how’s Joanne?”

“Not good. She’s pretty upset.” He sighed. “I hung out at the hospital with her until the kids got out of school, and then I picked them up and took them home. A neighbor came over after dinner, so I went back. I couldn’t convince her to go home, so I left to pick up some of her things and went back. I finally left around two o’clock; I’m sure she’s still there.”

“Man. That’s tough,” Gil commiserated.

The rest of the men nodded in agreement.

Johnny stood silently, his gaze falling to the floor as the previous day’s events and emotions came flooding back to him in a rush: Joanne’s intermittent tears, the doctor’s foreboding words and hopeless looks, little Jimmy’s struggle to breathe and later seeing him hooked up to all the life support, and Chris’s brave attempt not to look scared as he tried to comfort a crying Jennifer. It had been a heartbreaking day.

And not just for them.

Johnny had grown to love little Jimmy as well. Seeing him go downhill felt like another piece of Roy was slowly slipping away. It killed him that Roy had been cheated out of being there for his wife, family, and son. As he should be. As he knew Roy would want to be. And until he could be Johnny did the only thing he could. And that was to be the best substitute he could be.

He and Gil made a stop at Children’s Hospital at their earliest opportunity to check on Joanne and the baby. Johnny had been half afraid that Jimmy might have already passed, but he was still holding his own. Apparently he wasn’t ready to give up.

As he stared at the baby, lying there connected to a plethora of lifesaving wires and tubes struggling to stay alive, John knew what he had to do. Time had run out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Johnny slipped into the dorm to make the long distance call. Throwing a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure he’d be undisturbed, and unheard, he picked up the receiver. Trembling slightly, his fingers hovered over the numbers for a long moment before he forced them into the small holes and dialed.

After three rings, Johnny overheard his older cousin’s deep voice resonate a friendly, ‘hello’, and then the operator’s voice cut in: ‘You have a collect call from a John Gage in Los Angeles.’

John heard the amusement in Wayne’s voice. “Tell him I’ll accept the charges and send him a bill.”

‘Go ahead.’

“Wayne?”

“Hey cuz! How’s life in smog city?”

“Uh, it’s okay. How are things with you?”

“Doin’ good.” Wayne detected the edge in his cousin’s voice. He knew it well enough to know not to beat around the bush. “What’s up?”

“Wayne, you think Sonny’s still interested in that offer he made me a while back?”

“You mean about your herd? Yeah, I’m sure he is. He mentioned it to me again just the other day.”

“Good. You tell him I’ve changed my mind, all right? I want to sell.”

            Wayne’s voice sounded shocked. “You serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, how many?”

“All of ‘em. All six.”

“What? I don’t understand this. You just traded those colts for the two new broodmares. Is there something wrong with them?”

“No, no. They’re great. There’s no problem.”

 “Well then why are you doing this? I thought you said the business was going well.”

“Ah, I guess I got in a little over my head. I just don’t have time for it. It was a lot to take on.”

There was a long pause. Wayne always could tell when Johnny wasn’t being truthful. “Okay, what’s really going on?”

Johnny chuckled to ease his cousin’s mind. “Nothing. That’s it, man. I’ve just got too many other things happening right now.” I’m not lying about that.

Johnny could see Wayne’s eyebrows rising through the phone. A sleeved arm wiped at the sweat on his forehead.

“Ooo-kay. You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m positive. You tell Sonny to call me. Here at the station. Today if possible. All right?”

“What’s the rush?”

“I just…to be honest with you, I could really use the cash right now.”

There was silence for a long moment. “You in some kind of trouble Johnny?”

Johnny smiled. His older cousin had always had a protective spot in his heart for him. “No! No, I’m great. No worries.”

“If you say so.”

“Hey, I’ve gotta go. You got my number, right?”

“Yeah. I got it. So long, John. Call when you can talk longer okay?”

“I will.”

“Oh, and you foot the bill next time.”

Johnny laughed. “I will. Hey, thanks a million Wayne.”

“You bet. See you.”

There was a soft click, then the line went dead.

Johnny slumped, his shoulders sagging. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in the chair, a mixture of relief and sadness sweeping through him. A dull ache expanded in his heart at the thought of what he’d just set in motion. He took a shallow breath, trying to get himself together.

“Gage!”

The sound of the captain’s voice bellowed through the gaps in the closed door. It didn’t sound happy. Slowly, he pushed the chair back and got up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Okay, is everyone all set? We’ve got some new fire codes to go over.” Captain Stanley shuffled the pamphlets in his hands as he prepared to deal them out. His eyes swept the table as he handed the first one to Mike. His face twisted in annoyance. “Where is Gage?”

“He’s on the phone, Cap,” answered Gil, cringing at what he knew the captain’s reaction would be.

“Again?! He’s been on the phone at least six times in the last three hours. Who the hell keeps calling him?”

Each of his men either shrugged or shook their head.

He frowned as he considered that the calls might be from Joanne about the baby. “Was it Joanne?”

Marco fingered the pages in front of him. “I don’t think so, Cap. I answered it a couple of times and it was some guy.”

Hank pursed his lips. The phone had been ringing practically nonstop for John that afternoon, and each time he’d taken the calls either in the dorm or in the captain’s office, obviously wanting to keep them private.

Gil got up hastily. “I’ll go get him.”

Gil shoved his chair away from the table and went to get John. This time he was in the Captain’s office, the door partially closed. As he entered the room, he saw Gage squinting up at the calendar on the wall and heard him say, “…I’d really appreciate it if you could make this happen before Tuesday…yeah…look, I’ll pay – ” Startled by Gil’s presence, Johnny looked over.

“John, got a meeting. Cap wants you out here.”

Johnny held up his hand, then covered the phone. “Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Gil shook his head, his mouth drawn into a thin line. “He’s getting pissed.”

Johnny did a double take at Gil’s face, the urgency in his eyes betraying his calm veneer. He pulled his attention toward the phone, saw Gil leave from the corner of his eye. “I have to go. See what you can work out. Can you call me back in a little while? Okay. Bye.”

He hung up the phone and trotted out to the dayroom, joining the rest of the crew. He groaned inwardly, almost able to predict what thoughts were going through his captain’s mind as he stood there eyeing him angrily.

“Glad you could clear your schedule to join us.” Hank was angry, but he would deal with the problem privately, in his office, not in front of the other men.

“Sorry, Cap.” It seemed like he’d been saying that an awful lot lately.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joanne DeSoto hung up the phone with a trembling hand, staring into space as if in a trance. She’d just been given a death sentence for her baby.

Barely breathing, she felt the despair smother her, its shroud of blackness crushing the breath from her. A wave of anguish rose, and it burst forth as a wail tore from her chest. No one was there to hear it as torrents of agony poured out into the folded arms that her head rested upon.

She cried until she thought there were no more tears left. And then she cried some more. The deadly words inflicted silent wounds in her mind, words that would take her baby away from her forever.

‘…the release of funds has been put on hold…’

“What? Why?” she’d blurted in panic to Mr. Freidman, her breath stalling in her lungs.

‘New evidence has come to our attention that has led us to the consideration that your husband may still be alive.’

With those words, Joanne’s heart had swollen with hope, hope that maybe Johnny was right, that Mr. Martin had found new information that would prove that all this had just been a horrible nightmare, that there was some chance that Roy still existed and would come back to her. But then the cruel reality of the situation was revealed, and she learned that the one man whom she’d come to rely on and stand by her this whole time had actually betrayed her.

“What new evidence?” she whispered.

There was a palpable pause. “…Mrs. DeSoto, it seems you have a gravely ill child that needs an operation – a life saving operation.”

Joanne froze.

“Perhaps you could tell me why you didn’t mention that to Mr. Martin when you spoke to him.”

A sick malaise grew in the pit of her stomach. “I…I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“Yes, it is. Quite relavant.”

“Why should my son’s illness make any difference to this claim?” And how the hell did you find out about it?

“We feel it’s too great a coincidence that your husband’s disappearance has exactly coincided with the need for a great deal of money to pay for your son’s surgery. I’m very sorry, but we’ve decided to hand the matter over the police for a more complete investigation.”

No! God, no! Joanne felt her son’s life slipping away from her. “Well, it may be a coincidence but that’s all it is! Is that all the evidence that you have? A coincidence?!”

“No. We interviewed a number of people about your husband’s disappearance, ma’am. One of them was your husband’s own partner. He revealed to us that he has made continued searches for your husband, and continues to do so, despite the fact that the Coast Guard and the Fire Department have declared this a closed case. When pressed for an answer why, he inasmuch admitted that he is not convinced that Mr. DeSoto perished on the night in question.”

Joanne remained mute, unable to speak. The room seemed to freeze around her.

Freidman went on calmly. “I’m very sorry, but until we are certain of what happened to your husband, we are unable to fulfill the payment of the claim. We feel it’s necessary for the police to become involved in order to quell any doubts. I’m sure that if your husband is innocent then he will be vindicated.”

Innocent? He’s not even alive! When she was unable to respond, he spoke a last time.

“We’ll be in touch with you regarding your claim. Good-bye Mrs. DeSoto.”

The telephone slipped from her hand, hit the table, and bounced to the floor. Joanne could barely breathe as she replayed the conversation in her mind, still in disbelief. Johnny. Oh Johnny. How could you do this? How could you do this to me, to Roy, and to Jimmy?

Her beloved son was going to die.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Since he was closest to the phone, Captain Stanley answered it when it rang. “Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking.”

“Hank?”

He frowned, mindful of her tone even after one word. “Hi Joanne.” He paused as a bad feeling swept over him. “What is it? Is it Jimmy?”

Hearing Hank’s voice brought fresh tears, and she was unable to speak.

He heard the sharp intake of air, the words cut off by her weeping.

“What’s happened, Joanne?” Oh God, don’t let it be…please.

She hiccupped, trying to get her breath as she wiped the tears from her face. “The insurance company…American Mutual…they’ve turned down the life insurance claim…they think Roy is still alive…so now…now there’s no money to pay for Jimmy’s operation.”

Hank stared down at the floor in stunned silence. They’d all rejoiced when she’d told them about the life insurance policy, thankful that she’d found a way to pay for Jimmy’s operation. He’d never imagined in a million years that something would go wrong. But not only that, why did they think Roy was alive? Did they find some evidence that hadn’t been revealed yet? “What…well, why? Why would they think Roy was alive?”

“…Johnny,” she choked out. “He…he told Mr. Martin he thought Roy was still alive…told him he’d been searching for him ever since that day. And he told him about the baby.”

Hank’s expression darkened at the thought of David Martin, and the trouble he’d caused the other day. His whole body tightened as he remembered what Johnny told him he’d said, and what he’d accused him of, and the smug expression on the insurance man’s face as he’d left that day. He drew in a deep breath.

“Oh Hank, why? Why did Johnny have to tell him about the baby? Why couldn’t he have just kept his thoughts about Roy being alive to himself?’ Her voice grew more distraught the more she spoke. ‘He can’t be alive after all this time! I wanted to believe that he was, but I can’t keep holding onto false hope! Hank, why can’t Johnny just see the truth? Roy is gone, and he’s never coming back again.”  With that, she broke down sobbing.

Oh man. Hank rubbed his temple. What was he supposed to do? Side with Joanne or Johnny? He certainly understood how Joanne felt, yet the things Martin had accused Johnny of made his blood boil. “Joanne, I don’t really know what John told him. Maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions…”

“How else could he have known? No, they weren’t the least bit suspicious until they talked to Johnny.”

Hank sighed. “Joanne, I’m sorry. I – I truly am. But I wasn’t there when John talked to the man. I think you should speak with him about it. I honestly have a feeling that Mr. Martin had his mind made up before he even walked into the station.” He didn’t dare mention the scene that occurred between Martin and Johnny, and how Johnny had nearly assaulted him. It would only give her more reason to be upset with Johnny.

Sounds of sniffing and the rustle of tissue came across the line. “Hank, I don’t want to talk to Johnny. I’m too upset right now. I don’t know what to do. Jimmy…I don’t know how much longer he’ll even survive.” Her voice broke throughout the sentence.

Fingers pinched temples as the captain stood slumped against the wall, head down. “Jo, I’m so sorry. I wish I could think of something…if there’s anything you need…anything I can do…let me know.” It seemed so inadequate. Of course there was something she needed, but he was unable to provide it.

If she had been counting on Hank to say something that would make things better, or give her an answer, she was sadly disappointed. Staying on the phone talking about it was only making her more upset. She needed to get back to the hospital to be by her baby’s side. She’d never forgive herself if something happened with her not there. “Thank you,” she said tearfully, “but there isn’t. There isn’t anything anyone can do, now.” With a tearful good-bye, she ended the conversation, not exactly sure why she’d called.

Captain Stanley slowly hung up the phone, turning to find all his men silently staring at him, everyone except Johnny and Gil, who were out in the engine bay doing inventory on the drug box.

Mike’s usual quiet tone was laced with concern. “Cap? What did Joanne say?”

Heading toward the stove, Hank poured himself a cup of coffee, then turned toward his men sitting at the table. “She said her life insurance claim has been denied.” He looked at Mike meaningfully. “They think Roy is still alive.”

Chet and Marco looked at one another with stunned expressions.

“What?” exclaimed Mike in astonishment. “You mean, that Martin guy was serious?”

“Yep. He’s alleging that Roy faked his death so Joanne could claim the insurance money for Jimmy. I guess Joanne hadn’t mentioned the baby’s illness and somehow Martin found out about it. She thinks Johnny…”

John and Gil came through the door at that moment, one behind the other. “She thinks Johnny what? And who’s she?” Gage asked suspiciously.

His Captain looked guardedly at him. “That was Joanne. Her life insurance claim has been denied.”

Johnny stopped, visibly distressed by the news. “Oh man.” Johnny whispered, and he turned his head, closing his eyes. He wasn’t particularly surprised after what had happened the other day, but just the same, he’d been hoping... He looked up. “What was she saying about me?”

Hank drew in a breath. “She’s under the impression that you told David Martin about your conviction that Roy is still alive and that you’d been searching for him, giving him ammunition that Roy isn’t dead, and that he’s faking it.”

Mike glared at John in disbelief. “Gage, why the hell would you do something that stupid?”

Johnny stared at the engineer in shock. He’d never heard such a scathing tone come from Mike’s mouth before.

After that, all the men began to talk at once. Marco joined in on the attack. “Yeah, John. I mean, you knew he was here about the life insurance claim. Why did you tell him you thought Roy was still alive?”

Even Chet had a dig. “Gage, this is one time you should have kept a lid on your honesty.”

“All right men, that’s enough,” Cap admonished.

Johnny opened his mouth to protest but nothing came out, his expression one of pained bewilderment. His head swiveled to Gil, half expecting his partner to join in on the attack. Gil stood guardedly, his face uncertain.

Mike continued on the tails of Chet’s rebuke. “Why did you have to tell him about the baby? You just ruined Jo’s chances of getting any money to pay for Jimmy’s operation. And  why – ”

“Mike!” Hank raised his voice higher to gain some order before it got out of hand. He was shocked at Mike’s outburst.

Marco chimed in on top of everyone else. “I agree with Mike; Johnny should have thought before he – ”

“Enough!” Cap yelled, quieting everyone. He looked around at his men, furious at the way they were attacking one another, sickened at how his crew was behaving.

No one had been the same since DeSoto’s death. It was amazing how the absence of one man could so disrupt the harmony this once tight-knit crew had enjoyed.

Mike stood stiffly with a chastened expression, his arms crossed. Johnny looked stricken, yet angry, his jaw taut with unleashed anger. Marco stared accusingly at Johnny, while Chet rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Gil looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else right now but at this station.

“I feel like I’m the captain of a bunch of fourth graders!” Stanley glared at them all.

Mike wouldn’t relent. “John’s got to start to face reality, Cap. Other guys I’ve talked to are starting to think we’re…” He stopped abruptly when he saw fury erupt on his captain’s face, although Marco and Chet were nodding in agreement. In a calmer, more reasonable tone, he tried again. “Cap, there hasn’t even been a funeral or a memorial service for Roy for God’s sake. When are we all going to quit pretending that this didn’t happen and just accept that Roy’s gone?”

Enraged, Johnny kicked the leg of a nearby chair, causing it skitter across the floor and tip over, then turned and stormed out of the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The mood in the station did not improve that day, despite a speech given by Captain Stanley about the situation in an attempt to salvage the rapidly fraying relationships of his men. The only saving grace was the fact that the crew had a string of steady runs throughout the day, thus keeping them too occupied to argue.

After he’d given his men, and himself, a chance to cool off, Hank gathered them together for a ‘talk’. In his most supportive, unbiased, and diplomatic tone, he pointed out to each of them how the stress of Roy’s disappearance was affecting them. He didn’t leave himself out. He didn’t take sides, didn’t try to validate one’s opinion over the other; instead his goal was to make them understand that while this behavior was unacceptable at work, (and unprofessional), he understood the reason for it, and that with time, he felt confident that the pain caused by Roy’s loss would pass. He also strongly suggested that each of them make an appointment to talk with the department’s psychologist to get some help dealing with this.

“Right now I think what we all need to be a little more understanding,” he said. “Tearing each other apart isn’t helping any of us. And I’m sure that Roy would be appalled if he could hear all of you bickering.”

“That’s for sure,” Gage had muttered, eliciting a frustrated glare from his captain.

Johnny had sat through it, mutely sulking, anxious for it to end. He’d already decided that he would never talk to any of them about Roy again. They obviously didn’t care. He couldn’t believe how traitorous they were being, and how easily they gave up.

His heart broke for his friend, wondering how Roy would feel when he finally found out how easily they’d written him off. It jolted him, because it made him question his own friendships with these men, friendships born out of trust and camaraderie and brotherhood. Thinking about the fact that they’d deserted him in his quest to find Roy – their own crewmate – left a huge hole in his heart. It was also terribly lonely.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Detective Don Fahey, lead investigator for the LA Police Department, finished going over his latest assignment. A stack of folders filled with paperwork sat piled on his desk ready for his scrutiny. After that, weeks of research and investigation would commence in an effort to correctly determine the demise or whereabouts of Fireman Roy DeSoto.

 Because of the close association of the LA Police with the Fire Department, Don was fairly familiar with the situation. It had been a seemingly clear-cut case of accidental death until Mrs. Joanne DeSoto attempted to collect on her husband’s life insurance policy. An investigation by the claims adjuster at the American Mutual Life Insurance Company had triggered suspicions of fraud, and charges that DeSoto faked his death in order to collect on the policy. American Mutual was also alleging that DeSoto’s partner and best friend, John Gage, could be involved in the fraud by covering for DeSoto and concealing not only evidence, but his whereabouts.

Finished with the initial investigation, the Coast Guard was ordered to formerly turn over all findings, reports, and evidence to the LA Police to be investigated as a criminal matter.

Now in Detective Fahey’s hands, he got started on his preliminary work. Having a cousin in the Fire Department was beneficial, but it was a stroke of luck that his cousin actually was a firefighter at Station 51, where DeSoto worked. At first, Fahey wondered whether that would be a liability, but after further thought, decided that it would come in handy having a source so close to the suspects.

His hand paused in mid-air, hovering over the receiver of his desk phone; should he contact his cousin now, or wait? He had questions, and plenty of them. He wanted to interview his cousin, get a feel for the kind of man Roy DeSoto was. But he knew the opinion would be slanted, and naturally so. Firefighters and cops were alike in their legacy of brotherhood. He moved his hand away from the phone, and picked up the file folder again, his decision made. No, he would wait for now. As he continued to read, he formulated a plan for his investigation.

At the crux of the matter was the question of whether or not Roy DeSoto was dead or alive. Was his supposed demise a natural accident or a planned deception? Surveillance would be absolutely necessary. Don chose a team of two junior detectives to conduct round the clock surveillance of the DeSoto home. Working in alternating shifts, the two could assure any comings and goings would be detected. Meanwhile, he would assign another team to follow John Gage.

For now, the surveillance would only cover Gage’s off-time as his working hours would be unlikely to allow physical contact with DeSoto. Another department would investigate Gage’s financial activities, looking for unusual expenses that might indicate he could be providing a hidden DeSoto with monetary support.

With that done, Don himself would do the rest of the detail work and the research.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mike followed Marco into the dorm to change; the shift was over. Johnny and Chet were changing their clothes, doing their best to ignore one another. Anxious to be away from the discord of the last twenty-four hours, Mike walked past Gil, who was on his way out, to his own locker and began to undress.

The quiet was soon broken when Marco asked Chet what he was going to do on their days off, and a conversation about a new girl that Chet had met at a bar began. Mike glanced over his shoulder at Johnny, who was now sitting on the bench, head bowed, tying his shoe. He sighed, regretful for his outburst at Johnny the day before. It was unlike him, and he realized that the only thing he’d gained from it was Gage’s animosity. But it frustrated him how Johnny wouldn’t let Roy go, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Gage’s state of mind was even stable enough for them all to depend on if there was a difficult call.

It hadn’t been easy for him either. Mike liked Roy a lot; they were very similar in many ways. Both were pretty straight guys, both a bit reserved, both family men. Though they didn’t get together often outside of work, their wives did, and were close friends. The times they did get together as a foursome always proved enjoyable, and now that he was gone, Mike wished he’d made more of an attempt to be a closer friend. What baffled him was how Roy and Johnny had become so close, as different as they were. Well, opposites attracted, they said.

Caught staring when John looked up, Mike jerked his eyes away. I should go wave a white flag or something, he thought, noticing how down and tired Johnny looked. Drawing in a breath, he forced himself to swallow his pride. “Hey, John?”

Gage glanced over at Mike. “What?” he said rather harshly.

“Listen, I…I didn’t mean to come down on you so hard yesterday.”

Johnny’s jaw twitched and he hesitated before he spoke. “So why did you?”

Mike didn’t know how to convey what he felt without John taking it the wrong way. “It’s just…I think that…well, it’s not good to keep hanging on to the belief that Roy’s alive. I mean, I know it’s hard John, but you’ve got to let go sometime.”

Johnny stopped tying his other shoe, his hand frozen in midair with the lace dangling from it. “Just let go; just forget about him, huh? Is that what you think I should do?”

Chet and Marco stopped their conversation and turned to gawk at Mike and Johnny.

“No. I don’t think you should forget him, John. But denying the truth to save yourself from grieving isn’t healthy.”

Vaguely, Johnny heard Chet and Marco agreeing with Mike.

Johnny laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, and so now you’re the authority on health, eh? Well, maybe we should switch places, Mike. Since you’re such an expert, maybe you should be the paramedic and I’ll be the engineer. Or better yet, maybe you should apply for a job as the Department’s psychologist.”

Mike leaned forward, his usual calm and quiet demeanor again missing from his countenance. “Did you ever stop to consider the fact that your attitude is making it harder on Joanne?”

John’s mouth dropped open. “How would you know? You don’t even talk to her!”

Mike’s stare bore into Johnny. “But my wife does. It’s hard enough on Joanne and the kids that she’s lost her husband and they’ve lost a father – ”

“Don’t you think I know that – better than the rest of any of you?” John pointed angrily to his chest. “I’m the one who’s been going over there after every shift. What have the rest of you done?”

Chet and Marco joined in with a mixture of defensive retorts, each giving examples of what they’d done to help Roy’s family.

 Mike spoke over top of them. “Maybe you should think more about what you haven’t done, John. Joanne is trying to grieve, and you won’t let her. You invalidate her feelings with your constant insistence that her husband is alive. You’re upsetting her and confusing the kids, giving them hope when there is none. Joanne wants your help planning a funeral and you refuse to do it; instead, you make her feel guilty for trying to plan a way to honor Roy’s memory. I don’t think Roy would like the way you – ”

 John slammed his locker shut so hard that it shook, glaring angrily at Mike. “I’ll tell you what Roy wouldn’t like. He wouldn’t like knowing his so-called friends bailed out on him. He wouldn’t like knowing his brothers lost faith in him, and that all they wanted to do was to quit talking about him so they wouldn’t be reminded that they just don’t give a shit! That’s what Roy wouldn’t like Mike.” Johnny snatched up his jacket from where he’d laid it on the bench, and pushed through the doorway in a huff, leaving their calls in their own defense behind him.

He almost bowled over Captain Stanley when he flew through the door, who was on his way in to talk to Mike. The door missed hitting his face by less than an inch, and he staggered back in surprise. Hank had only a second to catch Gage’s incensed expression, but didn’t miss the redness of his face, or the hard glare in his eyes as he passed. Johnny whizzed by in a blur, seemingly oblivious to the presence of his captain. Nor did he respond when Hank called his name. Seconds later, he was gone.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was hours before dawn when Johnny softly padded through the dark dusty path to his barn. Barking ensued as he neared, and he shushed the dogs as he fumbled with the lock, thankful that his neighbors weren’t too near. The creaky wooden door swung open, unleashing an aroma of hay and horses that always instantly reminded him of a thousand childhood days on a ranch in Montana. But many more new memories had been added to those of so long ago. Their loss would be the hardest.   

Not used to being disturbed so early, the horses snorted and shuffled in their stalls uneasily. Denali and Jed ran excited circles around John, ecstatic at the predawn attention. Digging a scoop into a bag of dog food, he filled their bowls to calm them, allowing him to do what he had come there to do – just be there with his herd for a few more hours. Soon they would only be memories.

It was hard to imagine their absence. Each animal had its own distinct personality, and John had grown to love them all, every one of them beautiful, proud creatures, sadly unaware of the new surroundings they would be forced to get used to.

He hated to uproot them. Horses were creatures of habit, more secure when they had a routine and knew who was in charge. Changing that could dramatically affect the demeanor of the horse, terrify it, or even change its personality. For the millionth time, Johnny asked himself if he felt sure he was doing the right thing, and each time the answer came in the only way it could to save his sanity, and his guilt. Sonny was an experienced horseman, and of everyone that he knew, Johnny felt confident that the herd would be in no better hands. Why then couldn’t he convince his breaking heart of that?

He went to them one by one, savoring the feel of each of them as his hands ran over their soft mane and velvety hide. Looking past their long eyelashes and into the depths of their trusting eyes was most difficult.

He came to Moe last, one of his first horses and most favorite. “We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we buddy?” He affectionately patted his side as the horse nosed his face. Glancing over at the tack, his gaze slowly panned back to the handsome black and white horse.

“What do you say we go out one last time?”

            Moe snorted and stamped as if he knew exactly what Johnny was saying. With a bittersweet smile, Johnny arranged a blanket, saddle, and bridle on the horse, then led it through the barn door.

Johnny mounted in one swift motion, smoothly gliding up onto the saddle and immediately urging the horse into a trot. After letting him warm up a bit, he prodded the horse into a gallop.

Just like always, the excitement of riding atop such a majestic and powerful animal made his blood pump and his adrenalin flow. It was impossible to keep the smile from his face as they flew together over the terrain in the moonlight. He refused to let himself think about anything else but the ride.

Johnny chose a familiar path; he couldn’t risk an injury that might occur if the horse stepped into a rut or a hole that wasn’t illuminated. When the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon, he reluctantly turned back. Now he went more slowly, likening the return to the unpleasantness of having a dentist drill into his teeth.

The end did come though, sooner than he wished. As they climbed a hill on the path, Johnny could make out the shadow of his ranch in the distance.

The sunrise was breathtaking. An orange sherbet mist glowed above the earth like a halo, framing the craggy black fingers of tree branches before it in shadow. It reminded him of a scene from ‘Gone With The Wind’.

Johnny dismounted, allowing Moe to walk around the pasture and cool off. He went inside and began tending to the others for the last time, feeding each one before reaching for a stiff brush out of the pile accumulated in the brush basket. He let the soft noises of the barn soothe him as he groomed each horse, making sure they looked perfect. When he’d finished with the others, he fetched Moe, bringing him into the barn for his last session.

Around nine o’clock, he heard a vehicle slowly ascending the path, and recognized the sound of Michaela’s Mustang. He looked at his watch; she had just finished a thirty-six hour shift.

She knew the house was empty as soon as she opened the door. She didn’t have to look; she knew where Johnny would be on this morning. The bed was tempting; she was exhausted, but instead she brewed a pot of coffee, poured a cup, and headed outside with it. Steam rose from the mug as she crossed the path from the house to the barn. There was a chill in the air, but it felt crisp and invigorating without any wind. The pungent scent of fall leaves crunching beneath her feet was delicious, reminding her of warm fires on cold days and hot chocolate. There weren’t too many days in LA where one was reminded of those things.

Peeking through the crack in the door, she saw Johnny where she knew he’d be. He was busy grooming one of the horses, his hands moving in slow, fluid strokes over the animal. He looked up as she entered, offering her a bittersweet smile.

Drawing near, she handed him the steaming mug and he accepted gratefully, sipping the hot liquid as though it would save him. Without a word, he set it down. Reaching for her with one arm, he pulled her next to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder, while he gently stroked the horse’s face he had been brushing. Mick’s heart broke at the sight of him gazing so longingly at the animal.

Finally she spoke. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He closed his eyes a moment, then opened them. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“Honey, you’ve worked so hard, saved for this so long. It’s your dream…”

“I know. But I’m young. I can always start over. ”

She nodded. “I suppose. But you love them. They’re in your blood…”

“They’re just animals, Mick.” He stiffened, pulling away from her, wishing she’d quit reminding him of what he was about to lose. He stared outward bleakly. “I don’t see where I have any choice. It’s the difference between life and death for that baby. And I’m sure as hell not gonna just stand by and let him die.” A knot in his chest tightened as the awareness that he was alone in helping Roy sharpened.

The two stood without speaking for several long moments. Mick laid her hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Gage.”

Johnny only frowned unhappily. “Well…I don’t know how good I am. I just happen to be the only option available.”

The trailers pulled on to Gage’s property around eleven-thirty that morning. Horses were examined, and the animals were loaded. The money would be transferred directly into Winding River Grande, LLC, a business account that Gage had in Montana that had been set up under his mother’s maiden name, Wolf, when his parents were alive.

Johnny had inherited the large tract of land from his parents when they’d died. It adjoined a working ranch and acreage that his older cousin owned. Since it was useless to him in LA, Johnny gave Wayne use of his land in exchange several of the horses he had acquired, and for upkeep on the property and payment of taxes. It seemed to be an ideal business arrangement.  As a tongue-in-cheek title, Johnny had also named his LA ranch, a subsidiary of the Montana Ranch, ‘Gnotso Grande’, rolling the eyes of his cousin.

Sonny was a nearby rancher who had known the Gage family for years. He and Wayne were good friends and several times he’d expressed interest in buying the horses Wayne had given Johnny, but Wayne wouldn’t go back on the agreement he’d made with his cousin. Sonny had been only too glad to take the horses off Johnny’s hands when he’d asked.

After a hand-shake, Johnny stood numbly as they drove away, watching the vehicles bump down the road leaving clouds of billowing dust in their wake before disappearing altogether. Almost in shock, he couldn’t move for a long time, his feet frozen as if buried in cement. Slowly the shock faded and was replaced with sorrow. As grief threatened to smother him, he ran from it, making it his mission to do good with the fortune he’d just made. Refusing to let it eat him up, he closed up the barn and locked it, took the dogs in the house, and took out his business checkbook. A trip to the hospital was next on his list.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joanne watched as her children walked to the corner and down the street to school. When they were no longer visible, she heaved a great sigh and pulled her jacket from the closet. Days would never be the same as they once were in the DeSoto residence. A new normal had replaced the old, and Joanne grieved for the lost life that had died along with Roy.

Joanne’s day consisted of getting up, getting the children off to school, then going to the hospital and spending the day there with the baby, watching him slowly go downhill. If she was lucky, she was able to have someone look after the children after school; if not, she would come home, spend some time with them, then go back in the evening if she could get a sitter.

Sometimes her neighbor, Carla, would come over and watch the kids, or they would go to her house to play with her children, with Johnny there to babysit. But Johnny hadn’t been by lately, not after the morning he’d stopped over after work recently and she’d gotten so angry with him. She’d told him then she didn’t need his help. She’d had quite enough of it already.

The house was a mess, hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. Newspapers and mail were strewn everywhere, dishes were piled high in the sink, and the stacks of laundry were mountainous. More than once she asked herself how much more she could take. She rarely had a full night’s sleep, and guilt over neglecting her other two children ate at her. Thank God Eileen had returned yesterday to help her for a few days. After Joanne had received the dreadful news that the insurance claim had been denied, Eileen had offered to come again and help ease the stress for her sister. 

Last night they’d talked of a funeral for Roy, and Joanne had tearfully admitted that she didn’t know if she could take planning two funerals. She’d considered just waiting until Jimmy passed away and have them together. She thought Roy would have liked that. But saying good-bye to both a husband and a child at the same time was just too much to bear.

Lately Jo had come to believe that Roy’s death had a purpose: that he was taken from them and sent to heaven so that he would be there to welcome Jimmy when his time came. While thinking this made her cry, it also gave comfort knowing the two of them would be in heaven together.

Joanne had just picked up her keys when the telephone rang. She froze, flooded with the same panicked reaction she got every time the phone rang these days. Always expecting the worst, it was becoming downright frightening to answer it. When she heard her pediatrician’s voice, she nearly fainted.

Sure she was dreaming, she made him repeat the news three times. Satisfied that she’d heard him right, she sank down into the chair next to the phone and tried to stop shaking.

The hospital had received a check from an anonymous donor earmarked for Jimmy. It had come from a bank out of state under the business name, White River Grande, although the donor had asked that information not be revealed. No one had a clue as to who it was or why they had donated, but they didn’t question it. Dr. Anderson had already made the call to Dr. Lawrence in New York. He would be on a flight to Los Angeles the next day and would do the surgery the following day, after a thorough examination of Jimmy. Joanne bent her head and cried in joy.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joanne’s head rested in the palms of her hands, held up by elbows situated on knees. After an hour of standing and pacing, the stress became too much and she’d sunk into a chair. The speckles on the tiled hospital floor melted together, and her eyes had drifted shut about fifteen minutes ago. Weeks of stress and sleep deprivation had taken their toll.

The soft pad of footsteps approaching didn’t register until they stopped, and she opened her eyes to a familiar set of shoes. Instantly her spirits rose, knowing who it was without looking. Slowly her eyes drifted upward to meet his. Though she had mixed feelings about his presence, he was exactly what she needed right now.

Johnny looked down at her and smiled hesitantly. He wasn’t quite sure he would be welcome here. She was blaming him for the denial of her life insurance claim, and when he’d stopped over after his last shift, she’d abruptly turned him away at the door, using the excuse that she needed to get to the hospital. He knew that part of her anger came from weeks of grief, frustration and exhaustion; now he was gambling that since money had come through for the baby’s surgery, some of that burden might feel lighter.

Jo felt guilty being angry with Johnny, but found it hard to be forgiving. More than anyone else, he’d been there for her, supported her, dried her tears, and done just about everything humanly possible to get her through this. And for a long time he’d given her hope that she’d see her husband again. That hope had kept her from collapsing into insurmountable despair. But as the weeks had crawled by and no one had produced any evidence that Roy was alive, Johnny included, the stark reality hit that he wasn’t coming home. After that, John’s insistence that her husband was still alive turned into a cruel tease, like rubbing salt in a wound.

When she’d learned that the insurance claim had been denied, it seemed like one more straw on the camel’s back. Not only wouldn’t the money be there for the baby, but she’d been counting on it to support her family. To think that she might have to go to work and leave her children infuriated her. Johnny was her scapegoat; even though she hadn’t even given him a chance to explain, it was easier to blame him.

She remembered the other morning when he’d shown up unannounced, his face full of sorrow, guilt, and frustration that he tried not to show. Johnny always was an open book. As she looked at him now, she saw some of those same emotions, but was a bit shocked to notice a bone deep weariness about him.

He looked different today. Dark shadows surrounded heavy eyes, a stark contrast to his pale face. Slumped shoulders completed a drained look that provided evidence that Roy’s death was weighing heavily on him as well. That didn’t stop her from reaching for him with open arms, ready to accept a new wave of strength that she knew he could pull from within himself to give to her. After all, he had all the men at the station to support him, his brothers.

Today the emotional needs outweighed the anger.

This morning on the way to the hospital she’d reasoned that once the police concluded their investigation and found no evidence of fraud, the insurance company would be forced to pay. Right now, all that mattered was that by some miracle, money had come through for Jimmy. At least he had a chance. If American Mutual still refused to make good on their claim, she’d get an attorney and sue them. So with those options in mind, she set aside her anger.

Relieved that Jo wasn’t spurning him, he reached out to her as well, and as she stood, he pulled her into a comforting hug. Neither noticed an inconspicuous man sitting a short distance away, surreptitiously snapping photos of them with a tiny hidden camera.

Jo pulled away from Johnny, her face turning puzzled. “How did you know…”

“Cap told me.” He looked uncertain again. “I thought you might want some company.”

She looked down ashamedly. “Thank you,” she said softly.

They sat down next to each other. “What’s going on? Is Jimmy – ”

“They took him to surgery at nine o’clock. I met with Dr. Lawrence at seven; he examined Jimmy yesterday. He…he thinks there’s a good chance he can help him.”

John smiled in relief. “That’s great, Jo. I’m glad.”

“So now, I just have to wait.” She sighed heavily.

“I’ll stay if you like.” His tone held hesitation. He still wasn’t sure how she felt about him being there.

She didn’t feel right asking him. But since he’d offered… “If you want to…I mean, if you can…”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

She placed her hand on top of his. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The man across the room snapped another picture.

Beth Stoker pushed the number “4” on the elevator and wrapped her arms around herself as she waited for it to lift to her floor. The doors opened directly to the waiting room, and the first thing she saw was Joanne DeSoto, sitting beside Johnny, her head resting on his shoulder. Anger and irritation surged through her at the sight, but she pasted a smile on as she emerged and made her way toward them.

Jo opened her eyes and lifted her head at the sound of someone drawing near. “Beth,” she breathed out, and stood.

Beth held out her arms and hugged her friend. “Joanne,” she murmured.

Joanne stepped back from the embrace and Beth faced Johnny. He looked up at her, his face neutral. If he held any animosity for her, she couldn’t tell. Her own expression was less camouflaged, and she glanced at him coolly. Mike had told her about the goings on at the station. “Hi, John.”

Her iciness wasn’t lost on him. He nodded at her. “Beth.”

They all sat down together. Jo and Beth talked amongst themselves about the baby, the surgery, and everything that was happening. For his part, Johnny remained quiet, lost in his own thoughts. After another sleepless night, he wished for nothing more than to be able to close his eyes and doze, and felt his lids growing heavy as the two women murmured. Beth directed all her attention to Joanne, which was fine with him, and the hours passed slowly and uncomfortably.

Occasionally he left on the premise of getting coffee or a bite to eat for everyone, staying away longer than it would take in order to let the other two talk.

When no word had come after two o’clock, Beth offered to go get Chris and Jennifer from school and stay with them.

Johnny took that opportunity to volunteer himself. As much as he wanted to find out how Jimmy was doing, he knew Jo likely preferred to have another woman by her side. “Beth, why don’t you let me go? I know you’ve got your own kids to take care of.”

Beth looked at him coldly. “Mike is home; he can take care of the kids.”

Joanne interceded, knowing that her kids preferred Johnny. Besides, the tension in the air was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. “Johnny, why don’t you go ahead and pick them up? I know Chris has been wanting to show you his new baseball glove.”

He looked at his watch, knowing he needed to go, then stood. “You’ll call when you know something?”

“Of course,” she reassured, smiling softly.

“Okay then. Um, I’ll see you later.” He looked at Beth. “Bye, Beth.”

“Good-bye, Johnny.” Her tone was softer now. It was hard to miss the depth of concern in his eyes, despite all the problems he was causing for Joanne and the guys at the station. No one could deny that Johnny meant well, and she felt somewhat regretful for how cold she’d been to him.

He slowly turned and left. The man with the hidden camera quietly got up and followed him. No one noticed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Captain Hank Stanley was in a good mood for a change. Finally he had some uplifting news to tell his crew. Maybe now things would settle down and not be so tense around the station. “Guys, gather around. I’ve got some news to share with you.”

It was early, and he wanted to tell everyone before any calls came in. The crew took a seat around the day room table, waiting to hear what their captain had to say.

“Gentlemen, some of you may already know this by now,” he glanced at Mike and Johnny. He drew in a breath. “Jimmy Desoto had surgery yesterday on his heart.”

Surprised exclamations came from the three crew members who knew nothing about it, and Hank then explained about the money that came from the anonymous donor, and the resulting surgery.

Everyone was curious as to who the donor was, and each hypothesized about who it might be, never guessing that the person could be in the room with them.

Hank turned to Mike and John. “Either of you guys want to fill everyone in?”

Johnny remained silent, his face expressionless. He nodded toward Mike to go ahead.

Stoker explained how Beth had spent the day with Joanne in the hospital the day before as they waited for the surgery to be over. The doctor had repaired the heart defect, and was hopeful that more surgery wouldn’t be needed, although time would tell. In most cases, the second surgery was necessary, but the operation was so new that he didn’t want to make any assumptions. Mike explained that Jimmy was still in very serious condition; he could get better, or worse. It could go either way.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Don Fahey pulled his black 1970 Chevy Monte Carlo into Station 51’s parking lot and got out. Stopping at the hood, his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized an imaginary scratch in the finish, then leaned over and buffed it with the sleeve of his corduroy jacket. Satisfied that his prize possession was gleaming, he moved on.

A glance over at Chet’s VW Microbus brought a smirk; he couldn’t believe his cousin still drove that thing. What a piece of junk. No wonder he never gets a date. He shook his head and headed for the open back bay door.

Wandering inside, he noticed a couple of firemen on the engine apparently checking some of the equipment. Two other guys were busy wiping down the squad.

Marco noticed him first and stopped to greet him. “Hey, Don. What are you doing here?”

“Hey amigo,” he answered with a smile and a sideways hand slap. Marco was one of Chet’s best friends.

Mike glanced over, curious as to who he was.

Gil looked over casually; Johnny glanced in Don’s direction uninterestingly, then looked away.

“Hey Mike. Go get Chet, will ya? Tell him his cousin is here.”

Mike acknowledged with a nod and jumped down from his baby in search of Chet. A moment later, the Irishman appeared, looking surprised but pleased. Mike followed him out.

“Hey Don. What brings you by? You off today?”

“Actually Chester, I’m here on official business.”

Chet’s curiosity was piqued, but his face conveyed that he thought Don was joking. “Oh yeah? What kind of business?”

Don looked around. “Well, is your captain here? I need to talk to him.”

Chet’s brow crinkled in puzzlement. “Yeah, he’s here. So, uh, what’s this about?”

Don’s face was dead serious now. “Why don’t you go get him and I’ll fill you all in together.”

Chet hesitated a moment. “Hey Marco. Go get the Cap, okay?” Chet remained where he was standing, arms crossed, slightly irritated that his cousin was keeping him in the dark. Finally, he leaned forward a bit, quieting his voice. “Hey, someone here’s not in trouble…are they?”

Don smiled. “Nah. Just hang tight. I’ll tell you in a minute.”

It wasn’t too long after that that Captain Stanley appeared and Chet introduced Don to everyone.

“Guys, this is Detective Don Fahey, my cousin. He’s with the LA Police Department.”

Most the men’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as they greeted the man and shook hands with him. Johnny frowned, almost immediately guessing the reason for Chet’s cousin’s visit. Fahey’s eyes locked with Gage’s, and John felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, like he was being evaluated. He turned away, dreading what was to come.

Don didn’t waste any time explaining that he was now the lead detective in the Roy DeSoto disappearance case, and that he was there to interview all the men. Hank couldn’t help but notice the look of irritation in Gage’s eyes as comprehension crystallized about what this would involve.

The interviews started right then, and took hours; the detective didn’t finish until late in the evening. Don purposely interviewed Chet last. He wanted to form opinions on his own first, then get Chet’s feedback. Especially about Gage.

John’s interview took the longest; he was in the Captain’s office with him for three solid hours, missing dinner.

During it, he’d prayed for a run, exhausted after the tireless questioning. Luck wasn’t with him that day, for the run came five minutes after they finished, and by then, he was running on empty and ready for bed.

Fahey asked him the same questions over and over, rephrasing them each time. He wanted every single detail, down to the most minute element. The only saving grace was that he hadn’t been obnoxious like David Martin; he’d been calm and professional, but dogged, tenacious in seeking answers.

Gage was like a splinter under his skin that Fahey relentlessly picked at, intent only on getting at the truth that might be buried under the surface, unconcerned about how much time it took to find it. He had a game face that was impossible to break, and by the time he let Gage go, Johnny was mentally exhausted, and nowhere near understanding the rules of his game.

Johnny tried asking him questions, hopeful to seek his own answers, but Fahey wasn’t playing on an even field. He threw Gage off by always answering with more questions of his own. Johnny hadn’t been able to gain the upper hand once.

Careful not to make the same mistake with Fahey as he had with Martin, Johnny cooperated, keeping his cool the entire time. Though the interview was grueling, John tried to feel hopeful that now that a professional was doing the investigating, perhaps they’d get some real answers about Roy. Little did he know that Fahey was forming his own theories about the whole situation, and they were far from favorable.

When John emerged from his captain’s office, he looked like someone had dragged him a few miles through a river, wrung him out, and hung him up to dry. It wouldn’t be the end. Fahey informed him that there would be more questioning as the case progressed, and that he should remain available. If Gage was planning on taking a trip, even a day out of town, Fahey wanted to know about it. 

Around nine p.m., Don finally called Chet into the office. The door stayed closed over an hour, although much of their time together was catching up on family business, that is, after the initial business of the investigation was over. In the end, Don made it clear that whatever conversations took place between them were not to be divulged to anyone, especially John.

He also pushed Chet to be an informant to him. Any suspicious behavior by Gage or anyone else was to be reported to him immediately. In return, he would keep Chet updated of any progress on the case, at least whenever it wouldn’t compromise the investigation.

Chet left with an uneasy feeling; not only discomfiture at his cousin’s request to spy on his ‘brother’, but also disconcertion at Don’s suggestion that David Martin’s hypothesis about Roy and Johnny could be true.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sea caves dotted the coast of California and its islands. Formed by years of the pounding surf, they were havens for those exploring marine and wild life, or for those just wanting to experience the thrill of being inside one. Unlike almost anything else, sea caves gave those fortunate enough to experience them the impression that they were on another planet. It was rather like sitting inside a giant clamshell with water echoing all around, surrounded by a backdrop of towering cliffs that could rival the surface of some obscure planet.

Unless one was trained in scuba diving, the most practical way to view the caves was by sea kayak. Kayaking provided an opportunity to see the shoreline up close, and to feel the thrill of the white water bouncing off the rocks. Unfortunately, on this particular morning, a victim was stranded inside one of the water caves on Santa Cruz Island. Rough waves had overturned his kayak and stolen it away. Calling for his friend to go for help, he clung to a shelf of craggy rock inside, waiting for his return. At least he’d had enough sense not to go alone.

Had not every available Ventura firefighter been called out to a brushfire in the Los Padres National Forest, Station 51 wouldn’t have gotten the call. One had to wonder why anyone would be kayaking on a day like today. It was gray, windy, and cool, much like the day John and Chet had taken Chet’s brother’s boat out to search for Roy.

Approximately seventy miles away, travel by helicopter was the only means of getting there in a reasonable amount of time, and of getting the men where they needed to be as quickly as possible without rappelling.

An unnerving sensation filled Johnny as he and Gil sped high above the shore and out to sea. The last two water rescues he’d been on had played out badly. Rescuing the college kid from the LA River a few months ago had nearly resulted in his own drowning. After that was the night Roy had disappeared. Memories of that last helicopter ride spawned an uneasiness inside him that made his stomach twist. It grew more intense as he looked out over the endless whitecaps below. He kept his face averted from Gil’s as he worked to maintain self control, mentally talking himself into a calmer state and breathing deeply to quell his pounding heart. Fifteen minutes into the ride, he asked the pilot the ETA, already knowing it would be at least another thirty minutes.

Late morning clouds multiplied, allowing only small slivers of sunlight to squeeze through as they approached the rugged shores of Santa Cruz, a product of volcanic activity about twenty million years ago.

Johnny and Gil slipped into their life jackets and gathered ropes and other necessary equipment they’d need for the rescue, preparing to be lowered down by cable. The pilot indicated that he’d spotted the victim’s friend on the rocks below, and he maneuvered the craft above him.

Hovering over their target, Johnny went first, sliding the door open. A rush of brisk wind hit him, forcing all his concentration onto the task of balancing and exiting safely to make it to the uneven ground below. The wind battered the paramedic as he made his descent, sending shivers through him. He forced himself not to think about how cold the water was going to feel. As soon as his feet touched the rocky ground, the line was sent back up to Gil, setting him down beside Johnny on a rugged coast dotted with asters and sunflowers.

 The trapped man’s friend ran to their side.

“What’s the story?” Gil asked quickly.

Breathlessly, the man explained. “I’m Chuck. My friend, Jeremy and I were exploring that cave there.” He pointed outward to a large craggy opening in the rock about fifteen feet high. “Jer’s kayak hit some rocks and he tipped over. He couldn’t get a hold of his craft, and the tide sucked him back into a smaller chamber in the back. I…I was afraid to follow him back there…I had no way to get him out, and I was afraid I’d get stuck. So I yelled to him I’d go get help.”

John and Gil glanced at one another. “Okay.”

“Please hurry. The tide’s beginning to rise. That cavern’s not very big. If the waves get high enough…”

“Got it,” Johnny said shortly.

Gil regarded Johnny. He’d already zipped his handi-talki into a plastic bag and stored it inside his life jacket. Now he was fastening his belt and securing a rope to it.

Gil began doing the same, and John stopped him, his hand briefly touching Gil’s arm. “Only one of us is going, and it’s gonna be me.”

A look of protest spread across Gil’s face. “Johnny, you’re going to need help – ”

“That’s right. I’m going to need you on my line out here.” He saw the uncertainty in Gil’s eyes and grew impatient. While he and Gil were learning to work well together, they still didn’t have that unspoken trust that he and Roy had established. Johnny didn’t have time to argue with him. HE was the senior partner now, and he was giving the orders.

Fleetingly he thought of how Roy had given his last order to him on that fateful night and he’d been forced to comply and go up first, leaving Roy behind. But that had been different. Roy had chosen to stay below to save John from another harrowing water rescue – all because Johnny hadn’t been able to swallow a comment about it being ‘Roy’s turn next time’. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. Gil was good rescue man, but he was better. He had no idea how good a swimmer Gil was, and now wasn’t the time to find out.

Johnny didn’t waste any time getting into the water. He handed his line to Gil, instructed him to secure it, then splashed out a short ways before diving in. Gil and Chuck watched from the shore as the copter hovered noisily overhead, making ripples in the water.

The cold water was a shock to his system, and Gage began stroking in earnest to warm his body. The last thing he needed was to freeze up when he needed his dexterity. He swam toward a gaping hole in the side of the island, in awe of the prehistoric looking rocks of the shoreline. If a pterodactyl had suddenly swooped down, it wouldn’t have looked out of place.

A flock of seagulls followed him, cawing mournfully overhead. Johnny momentarily forgot the cold as he gazed at the stony cathedrals in front of him. He made a note that he’d return here and dive some day; the emerald water was so clear he could see nearly fifty feet below him.

Reaching the opening, a sudden swell carried him through a p-shaped hole and into the cave, and he found himself surrounded by jagged rocks. The chamber was about the size of a large living room. Pink algae on the walls made a striking contrast to the aqua-blue water. About twenty feet back, a passage no wider than a doorway and about as high led into darkness. Johnny’s heart sunk when he realized that’s where Jeremy likely was. Oh, man.

 He called out over the echoes of splashing water. “Jeremy!” He waited a second, calling again. “Jeremy!”

“Help!” echoed back at him. “I’m in here!”

A wave rolled over the paramedic, temporarily stealing his hearing and vision. Johnny felt a new urgency now. The smaller, narrower cave could literally swallow them up, drowning them both as the tide rose. Even in this larger cave, the rolling swells lifted him considerably, shrinking the headroom to an alarming shortness.

Johnny began swimming toward the narrow opening. The noisy reverberation of churning water ricocheted off every surface, the surging waves smashing up against protruding rocks. A blowhole off to the side periodically wheezed out buckets of seawater with a deafening ferocity. It seemed like every time John made a few yards of headway, swells of water washed him backward, threatening to carry him up against the mangled walls. 

Ignoring the queasiness building in his stomach, he took advantage of the next wave and surged forward with it. Just before he went through the opening, a stream of light caught something floating in the water. His eyes widened as a familiar looking object sailed by, but it was too far away to snatch up. It dodged into the shadows, then emerged again as a surge of water lifted it up, depositing it onto a high shelf of rock as if for safekeeping, where it teetered and fell over, now beyond the reach of the waves.

As Johnny traveled through the opening, the recognition of what it was doubled his heartbeat and he knew he would have to go back for it.

It took his eyes a few long moments to get used to the darkness of the smaller cave, but John could just make out the form of a man precariously perched on a cleft of rock about waist deep in water.

He spit a mouthful of water out and yelled. “Jeremy?”

“Yeah! Man, am I glad to see you!”

“Well, take it easy,” he yelled back. “My name’s John and I’m gonna get you out of here.” Another wave crashed over Johnny and Jeremy panicked when he disappeared for a moment.

“Hey! Where are you?!”

Johnny resurfaced and shook the hair from his eyes. Water had forced its way into his nose that time, and he came up coughing, trying to expel the stinging water. He coughed more as he swam, unable to keep more water from entering his mouth. His immediate intent became reaching Jeremy before another wave took him under again. He knew if he hadn’t had the life jacket on, he’d have been history by now. Even so, the strength of the water was frightening.

Finally reaching the wall where Jeremy was standing, he groped for a handhold to keep from smashing into it. Refraining from grabbing hold of Jeremy lest he cause him to fall in, Johnny managed to curl his cold fingers around a jagged piece of rock and held on.

The whites of Jeremy’s eyes were huge. He was terrified. “Hey man, get me out of here!”

It was difficult to talk with the water swirling around his face, but Johnny responded anyway. He had to calm the guy down. They would both be in trouble if Jeremy decided to panic and latch onto Johnny before he was ready. “Okay, okay! Just stay calm! Everything’s gonna be all right. Now hold on – ”

“Watch out!” Jeremy yelled.

A loud BOOM rattled Gage’s bones as water rushed through a small porthole in the cave. Seawater cascaded over his head again, plugging his ears and shoving him into the rock wall. A sudden shock from a jagged stone stabbing into his lower back stole his breath and almost loosened his precarious hold. With a gasp, he broke through the surface, arching his back. Waiting for the water to recede, he quickly latched onto the safety belt clipped to his own, unfastened it, and thrust it out of the water. “Just hold on! I’m going to need your help!”

“O-okay.” Jeremy was shivering violently. He’d been holding on there a long time and a cold weariness had settled into his bones. “W-w-what do you want me to do?”

“Here! Take this, and fasten it around your waist. I’ll help you!”

Jeremy stretched forward as far as he dared and snagged the safety belt from John’s hand. Johnny closed his eyes as a fleeting vision of Jeremy dropping the belt in the water flashed in his mind. That couldn’t happen.

The water was rising dangerously. It was now up to Jeremy’s chest. Johnny tried his best to stay close and get the belt around his victim. He had to let go of the wall for a minute to do so. The water seemed to have a vendetta against Johnny, for as soon as he did, it plunged him under the surface and forced him into the rocks again. This time, he felt the cave wall tear at his pants, exposing his bare thigh to its gnashing teeth. His yell was stifled as water filled his mouth once again. The water receded just as quickly, allowing him just enough time to get a breath and secure the belt around Jeremy’s waist.

John’s voice began to shake from the battering his body was taking. “O-okay. Now I’m gonna tie you to my line, and we’re gonna swim out of here. Got it?”

Jeremy couldn’t wait to get out of the cave. The swells of water were carrying them both within a foot of the top of the smaller cave now, and he feared of drowning. “Yeah! Let’s just get the hell out of here!”

Johnny got their lines tied together and withdrew his handi-talki. Leaving it in the plastic, he depressed the ‘talk’ button. “Ro –  uh, Gil, this is John! We’re ready! Take up the slack and pull us in!”

The voice was muffled, but apparently Gil heard it. “10-4!”

Within a few seconds, John felt the line tighten. “Let’s go!”

Jeremy slid the rest of the way into the water. Together, they swam against the powerful waves, aided by the two men on dry land. Johnny was a little worried about how they would navigate through the narrow opening into the larger cave, but they got lucky. At the last second, the current scraped them through side by side, flushing them into the more cavernous area. The water wasn’t as treacherous here.

Johnny immediately scanned for the item he’d seen earlier. It was a boot, a firefighter’s boot, one that only took seconds to recognize. A newfound strength pulsed through him when he saw it still perched on the ledge, although the water had risen closer to it.  Now was his chance. He steered Jeremy at an angle toward the wall. “This way!” he called.

Jeremy struggled to continue straight. “Where are we going?” he yelled.

“Over there! Toward that wall! I just want to grab that boot. It’s not far, I think I can get it!”

For the life of him, Jeremy couldn’t imagine why this fireman would be concerned about getting his lost boot. It must have come off during the rescue, but Jeremy figured that he could always get another pair. All he knew is that he didn’t want any detours. He was ready to get out of there now. Figuring the fireman must know what he was doing, he reluctantly followed his lead.

Johnny directed them forward, and at an angle, but between the tide and Gil pulling the line tight, he could see it would be almost impossible. It was less than ten feet away. He had to try. Johnny urged Jeremy sideways a bit, when they were both hit with a huge wave. It washed over the two, pulling them down and farther away from the wall. For a moment, the line tangled and the two men were twisted together under the water. Johnny felt Jeremy thrashing, knowing he was panicking, and he kicked hard to right himself and untangle them. Due to the buoyancy of their life jackets, they finally popped to the surface; miraculously the line between them had straightened.

Jeremy came up gasping, clawing at the water as if he was trying to get away from Johnny.

Johnny realized the futility of trying to get the boot with the two of them linked together. He’d already gone too far in risking the rescue and further tries could put them both in real jeopardy. He’d have to come back on his own.

“Forget the fuckin’ boot, man!” Jeremy sputtered. “We need to get outta here!” He was terrified now that the line wouldn’t hold.

“Don’t panic! We’ll get out!” Johnny directed him forward. “This way!” They were almost at the mouth of the cave.

Gil and Chuck held fast to the line, feeling the strong tugs and wondering what was going on. Each time there was any slack, they pulled in, and slowly, foot by foot, guided them out. Finally John and Jeremy emerged from the mouth of the cave. Two sets of arms wind-milled freestyle through the water, the strokes becoming less frantic as they drew nearer.

“Ease off a little,” Gil instructed, seeing that John and Jeremy were close enough to manage the waves on their own. Moments later they were staggering out of the water, Johnny had one fist clasped firmly onto the back of Jeremy’s shirt in support. Though he was the one holding Jeremy up, he appeared close to collapse himself.

Gil and Chuck rushed out to lend a hand in helping them climb up onto the cliff. Both men’s chests heaved with the effort, both coughing up water. Each had their share of scrapes, and Johnny was bleeding through a tear in his pants.

“You okay?” Chuck asked Jeremy urgently.

Jeremy stood bent over with his hands on his knees. “Yeah,” he breathed heavily, eyeing Johnny. “Yeah. I was afraid we weren’t going to make it.”

Chuck glanced over at Johnny and nodded his thanks.

Gil thought John was in worse shape than Jeremy, but his first duty was to the victim. Making eye contact with Jeremy, he asked, “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No. No I don’t think so. Just scraped and bruised.”

Johnny was busy pulling the handi-talki out of its plastic bag. Positioning it to his mouth, he depressed a button. He looked up at the hovering helicopter as he spoke. “Copter 4, this is HT 51! do you read?”

‘This is Copter 4.”

“We have the victim. Send a line down please.”

“10-4.”

Gil took a few steps toward Johnny. “You okay?” He bent to examine John’s leg.

Johnny shivered, still breathing heavily. “Yeah. I’m f-fine. You get these two up to the copter. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He slipped the handi-talki back into the plastic bag.

“What? Where are you going?”

Johnny worked to catch his breath. “I’ve got to go back and get something.” Gingerly, he began to climb down the few feet to the water.

Gil grabbed his arm. “What are you talking about?”

Johnny jerked his arm away. “I’ve got to go back to the cave. There’s something in there I’ve got to get.”

Gil’s eyes grew huge. “You can’t go back in there! It’s high tide!”

Gage’s eyes narrowed in rage. A tsunami wouldn’t keep him from retrieving that boot. He just hoped it was still perched on the ledge. His teeth gnashed together as he spoke, and his words were brusque and clipped. “Don’t question me. Get those two up to the copter. Then watch my line. Tell the copter pilot to stand by. I won’t be more than a few minutes.”

Gil stared at him in stunned silence as he splashed out into the water once again.

Part 5