Fade the Heat Read Online Free Page A

most devastating weapon imaginable. “Your father would never try to hold on like this, wouldn’t respect it either. You’re not just dragging down yourself here. You’re dragging down the crew. You have to stop this, Reagan, for your own good. You have to understand it’s over. You’re useless to us this way.”
    She wanted to shout that she would damned well show him who could do the job. Who was it who’d been known from the start for matching male rookies ax-stroke for ax-stroke—despite her slender, five-six frame—and fighting interior fires with a will? And who was it who’d represented the station in the women’s boxing division of the annual clash with the cops the past two years? She wasn’t finished, not by a long shot.
    “If you don’t get this problem of yours under control and you refuse to transfer, I’m going to report you as unfit for duty,” Rozinski told her. “You and I both know you’ll lose your job entirely if it comes to that.”
    Before she could protest, she heard an alarm go off at the station. She recognized the series of tones even before Rozinski said, “That’s for us. I’ve gotta run.”
    He hung up, leaving her to imagine the crew— her crew—rushing to pull their gear on, climbing on the apparatus…and driving off to do the job without her.
    Had she even left a hole when she’d gone? Or had they already filled it, with someone whole and strong?
    As she set down the receiver, Frank Lee bounded over to the closet where she kept his leash and barked to let her know he’d had enough of waiting. Though she hated going back out into the weather, Reagan responded on autopilot, grabbing an old Astros cap, then leashing up the dog and exiting the front door to take him on his evening walk. She’d better cut it short, she realized as the rain rolled off the cap’s brim. Though she’d just used her inhaler, she could feel her damned lungs twitching with the insult of the cold, damp air. But her feet weighed her down like anchors as the captain’s words replayed in her head a dozen times.
    As she fought the asthma’s anaconda grip, she thought of her battle against Rozinski, her illness, and the medical community in general. And how, at 0630 Monday morning, the whole damned mess would come to a head.
    She could cave in now or go down swinging, but Reagan Hurley was looking for an Option C…some passage through this firestorm that would help her fade the heat.

Chapter Two
    Reagan was gone, Jack realized, off to find a quack—and he didn’t delude himself into thinking they weren’t plentiful—who would sign her damned release. So why, two hours later, was he still remembering her face?
    Shivering in a denim jacket that had seemed adequate before this front blew in, he trotted through the rain to his chili-red Explorer, then gaped at what he saw.
    Ahuge dent had caved in the driver’s-side door, and the trim was lying mangled on the broken asphalt. Besides that, someone had made angry gouges on the three-year-old SUV’s hood, maybe with a screwdriver…or a nail file.
    “Damn it all,” he said aloud, his suspicion settling on the woman who’d been on his mind. As he had followed her to the door to be certain she left without a fuss, hadn’t she accused him of not caring that her life was being ruined? And she’d seemed furious enough to do almost anything to get even.
    Well, wrecking his truck sure as hell wasn’t going towin him over to her cause. Jack shoved his damp hair from his eyes, surveyed the damage, and tried the crumpled door without success.
    Swearing again, he thought of having Reagan Hurley arrested. The green streaks that stood out against the red paint would help identify the car that had hit his. When the cops found that her paint matched and heard his testimony about her behavior, they ought to…
    He sighed, remembering the little girl who’d had grit enough to hurl rocks at Paulo—who weighed in at one-eighty at the age of thirteen—for his