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Eventually, Becca lifted herself off Krissy’s face and flopped down onto the mattress, a writhing, shaking, contorting woman, helpless in the throes of her body’s reaction to the climax.

Running her tongue over her Becca-slickened lips, Krissy smiled.

Krissy Kincaid does not leave women unsatisfied.

Chapter 29

The next day at Fire Station 3, at around nine a.m., Becca had a tingling sensation at the base of her skull. It was like a primeval warning signal, left over from the days when the human species had to contend with sabre-toothed tigers lurking about. During her time in the Army and during her career as a firefighter, this warning signal had served her well. This time, however, she felt certain the warning had nothing to do with fire.

Getting up from behind her desk in the admin area, she walked out into the apparatus bay and started barking orders.

“Get this place cleaned up right now!” she called out. She pointed to two men. “Poole, Keen, get that gear stowed. The fucking drill has been over for forty-five minutes already!”

Her eyes spotted something else awry.

“Browning, empty those trash cans! Somebody tell me where Cappy is!”

“Out back, ma’am,” one of the firefighters called out.

“Get him in here!” she ordered.

She inspected the trucks in the apparatus bay, shaking her head. By the time she was done, Cappy was at her side.

“Cappy, get a detail on these trucks. There’s no time to wash them, just have them wiped clean and shining. I want other details in the bunk room and the kitchen; make sure they are fucking spotless!”

Cappy nodded.

“What’s going on?”

Becca shook her head.

“Just a feeling I have. Get the probies mopping. Tell them I plan on eating my lunch off the floor and if I can’t, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Got it.”

For the next forty-five minutes, the station was busy with activity as the crew cleaned everything and stowed away items that were out of place. Throughout it all, Becca went from room to room, finding deficiencies and getting somebody to correct them instantly. By the time it was over, the toilets in the bathroom gleamed, the beds in both bunk rooms—the men’s and the women’s—were made to military standards and both trucks in the apparatus bay looked as if they had just been purchased yesterday. Moreover, Becca determined that, yes, she probably could eat her lunch off the floor.

The crew—with the exception of Cappy, who knew her better—probably thought she was being a ball-breaker just for the sake of it. But Becca still had that tingling at the base of her skull.

Sure enough…

Chief Comstock’s official CFD car pulled into the parking lot.

“Inspection!” Becca barked. “Everybody down here now!”

“Inspection!” Cappy repeated, jogging from room to room. “Inspection! Get your asses out front!”

The few firefighters who were upstairs in the bunk room slid down the pole into the apparatus bay and quickly took up position in formation with the others, all standing at attention in front of the trucks.

A surprise inspection from the Chief of the Carlsbad Fire Department wasn’t exactly a sabre-toothed tiger, but Becca was glad her warning system still worked.

In a city like New York or Chicago, Chief Comstock would have a personal driver to go along with his department-issued car; but this was tiny seaside Carlsbad. In this town, the chief of the fire department had to make do with driving himself. Getting out of the car, the chief, in full uniform, put on his peaked cap and walked into the apparatus bay.

Becca, standing in front of her crew, gave him a crisp salute. Cappy, standing next to her, did the same. Once the salute had been returned by her superior officer, Becca said, “Pleasure to see you, sir. The station is ready for inspection.”

Oddly, this seemed to flummox Chief Comstock. He quickly recovered, however, and said, “Right. Very good, Roberts.” He gestured with his right hand. “Lead the way.”

It didn’t take long. Interestingly enough, as Becca and Cappy led the chief through the station, Becca got the impression that Comstock was only giving cursory attention to what he was being shown, though he was obviously pretending to give due diligence.


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