Internal Memo: Jefferson Avenue Firehouse, Courage Bay
From: Chief Dan Egan
To: Captain Joe Ripani Re: Madison Avenue parking garage collapse
Joe,
Iâve just finished reading the reports on the collapse of the Madison Avenue parking garage. You and your squad have done it again.
I should have your head for going in there alone the way you did, except I would have done the same myself. Lisa Malloy is alive today because of you, but just think twice before putting your life on the line like that. This job comes with risks on a daily basis, and I canât afford to lose any of my team.
Weâll be having a procedural review sometime down the road, when weâre not so damn busy with all these follow-up calls. I want all the guys who were on duty for the Madison Avenue collapse to be present. I also want to make sure they know Iâm aware of what a great job theyâve done.
I know youâre not one to rest on your laurels, Joe, but a lot of people owe you and your squad a heap of gratitude, and it was your dedicated rescue of Lisa Malloy that stands above the rest.
I may not say it often enough, Joe, but youâre one of the best.
DEBRA WEBB
was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams, and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners and working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding generalâs office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mysteries and movies for inspiration. In 1998 her dream of writing for Harlequin Books came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345, or visit her Web site at www.debrawebb.com to find out exciting news about her next book.
Dear Reader,
The Code Red world is certainly an exciting one! Iâm thrilled to be a part of it. I sure hope youâll enjoy Joe and Lisaâs story.
Joe Ripani is my favorite kind of hero. A man who will plunge headlong into danger to save a life. A man who stares death in the face and defies the odds. There is only one thing that can strike pure terror in the heart of such a man, and that is love.
Lisa Malloy is a hero, too. She lives a quiet life and devotes her time to healing animals. Safe is all she has ever known. Can she possibly hope to hold her ground where a man like Joe Ripani is concerned?
Follow along on this bumpy road to true love. I think youâll find the ride heartwarming.
Best,
Debra
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE GROUND TREMBLED.
Captain Joe Ripani of the Courage Bay Fire Department would recall later that it hadnât felt like such a big deal. More like a Magic Fingers bed he remembered from a cheap motel on a family vacation when heâd been a kid. Just a little shimmy as the ancient plates far beneath the Earthâs surface groaned and complained and rubbed against each other.
Joe glanced from one member of his squad to the next. Everyone had stopped in the middle of his or her task and taken note of the slight vibration. But no one really looked worried. It was California, after all. A little earthly movement was expected from time to time.
Still, Joe had a bad feeling in his gut. That little tremble telegraphed a tension that crept up his spine, setting off a too-familiar flare of anticipation with each vertebra it climbed. Not good. Salvage, the firehouseâs big, black Labrador mascot, apparently had the same feeling. He went still, then whined fretfully.
A full fifteen minutes passed before the true disaster struck.
Jefferson Avenue Firehouse shook as the ground rumbled for an endless thirty seconds. Joe and his crew were already jumping into the necessary gear when the alarm sounded. By the time central dispatch passed on the location, the trucks were rolling out onto the street, sirens wailing.
Traffic on the streets of Courage Bay had come to an abrupt halt, with vehicles sitting haphazardly in the middle of intersections. Pedestrians were still running for cover, though the initial tremor had passed. They all knew that aftershocks could be every bit as lethal as the quake itself. And there would be aftershocks. For days, possibly even weeks, causing nothing more than minor distress, but all the while holding out potential for much, much more.
Joeâs fingers tightened around the steering wheel of the firehouse truck. So far, there didnât appear to be too much physical damage. At least not that he could determine from the brief glances he afforded as he cut through the stalled traffic. No reports of fallen buildings, collapsed freeways or overpasses had rattled across the airwaves yet. But that assessment changed when he reached his destination.