Читать книгу: «Tested by Fire»
John felt like he was in a doll’s house. Or a storybook cottage. Everything around him was bright and feminine. Not frilly. Feminine.
The love seat and chairs in the living room were covered in a white-and-blue floral print and there was a rolltop writing desk stacked with books that took up an entire wall. A candle was burning on a small table by the window.
He walked over to blow out the candle and saw an open Bible next to it. It obviously wasn’t a decoration. Some of the verses had been highlighted with fluorescent pen, and there were bookmarks sticking out everywhere.
Fiona emerged from a room down the hall and caught him studying it.
“Part of the Kelly family legacy? A badge and a Bible?”
“No.” She held his gaze. “But it will be.”
KATHRYN SPRINGER
is a lifelong Wisconsin resident. Growing up in a “newspaper family,” she spent long hours as a child plunking out stories on her mother’s typewriter. She wrote her first “book” at the age of ten (which her mother still has!) and she hasn’t stopped writing since then. Initially, her writing was a well-kept secret that only her family and few close friends knew about. Now, with her first book in print, the secret is out. Kathryn began writing inspirational romance because it allows her to combine her faith in God with her love of a happy ending.
Tested by Fire
Kathryn Springer
MILLS & BOON
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Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name; you are mine!
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they will not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire,
You will not be scorched,
Nor will the flame burn you.
—Isaiah 43:1-2
This book is dedicated to:
My parents, for your love, encouragement and support through the years.
Cindy—you were the one who believed in this book, in these characters and in me. Thank you for listening, for asking questions, for allowing me to alternately whine and squeal with joy (depending on what was in the mail) and for all your prayers.
Love you, friend!
Grandpa Goldsmith—thank you for the writing gene!
And especially to Pete, who gave me the freedom and the time to pursue my dreams.
When I was tempted to quit, you said “Don’t.”
You are—and will always be—my hero.
Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Letter to Reader
Prologue
“I think I’ll ride with you a while, John.”
John Gabriel paused and looked at his chief in surprise. The man behind the desk chuckled and eased his bulky frame out of the chair with a fluidity that belied his size. “I’ve got two weeks until retirement…I thought I should say my goodbyes to the neighborhood.”
John didn’t believe him for a second. Seamus Kelly was the neighborhood. His great-grandfather had stepped off the boat with Irish soil still caked under his fingernails and nothing that separated him from the rest of the crowd but a burning desire to make a place for his family in America. He had found his niche working as a bobbie in the slum areas of New York City, and the badge became a legacy that was passed down through the generations. Everyone who worked at the department knew the story. The Kelly family was a legend in law enforcement. There was a cop sitting on every branch of the family tree.
“Do you want to drive?” John asked, dangling the squad car keys from one finger.
“Get away with you,” Seamus said irritably, but the gleam in his eyes told John he was pleased with the question.
As they walked in companionable silence to the car, John realized he wasn’t nervous around the man anymore. When he had been hired nine months earlier, he had secretly mocked the way the other officers revered their chief. After all, he was just a man. A man whose hair was thinning, whose middle was beginning to thicken and who sometimes forgot to schedule a night car on the weekend. In John’s mind, a man who should pack the old thermos into the old lunch box and make a spot in the department for someone younger.
Yet for the amount of awe and respect Seamus Kelly commanded, his temper was also widely recognized. It erupted like a volcano with old Gaelic spewing forth like lava. John had seen it—and felt it—about a month after he was hired.
His training officer, Dennis Meyer, was unimaginative and rather lazy. John was hungry to learn everything about being a cop. He pumped Meyer for information, badgered him about the need for a progressive department and generally made a nuisance of himself, until the man snapped one day and went to Seamus. The next thing John knew, he was standing in front of the legendary Irishman himself.
“So,” Seamus growled, his eyebrows almost meeting over his nose. “You and Meyer have a problem, eh? None of my men ever have a problem with Meyer, so that means you must be the problem.”
“Officer Meyer is slow—he’s getting old.”
Seamus stood up and leaned over the desk. “Too old?” he snorted. “He’s ten years younger than I am. You were still on the playground when Meyer was getting a medal for bravery.”
John stiffened.
“You had a chip on your shoulder when you got here and I thought Meyer would smooth it down a little. Fact is, I think you’ve given him one now.”
John almost smiled. Seamus saw it.
“You think turning one of my steadiest officers into a raving lunatic is going to get you a promotion, lad?” Seamus’s voice rose and several officers within hearing range suddenly melted into the woodwork.
“At least that proves he’s still alive,” John had retorted. “Sometimes I have to nudge him just to be sure.”
He couldn’t believe he’d said that. Here came his walking papers for sure.
“So who does the particular John Gabriel want for his training officer?” Seamus asked sarcastically.
“You.” John said the first name that came to mind and realized it was the truth.
There was absolute silence. John waited for the bomb to drop. Then, Seamus Kelly started to laugh. It was more frightening than a downpour of Gaelic.
“Lad, you remind me of me,” Seamus sputtered. “You just got yourself a new training officer.”
In an unprecedented move, the chief had ridden with him for four weeks and John had discovered during that time that the man’s heart beat for two reasons—his family and law enforcement. Even after John’s training was complete, Seamus still rode with him on occasion, bragging about his children and grandchildren. John always listened politely but unemotionally. Family ties were something he had never experienced, although he’d finally taken a tentative step toward that mysterious phenomenon when he’d asked Kristen to marry him. When she’d said yes, he had experienced, for the first time, an inkling of what some would call hope. Once they said their vows, his life was going to change. Was going to be better…
“Swing by Sixty-Fourth,” Seamus instructed now. “The owner of the Meritz Company called me yesterday and said some kids have been hanging around the warehouse.”
So that was it. If Seamus told someone that something would get done, it would. He personally made sure of it. John turned the car around and it cruised stealthily down the street.
“I suppose they’re throwing me a big retirement party,” Seamus groused.
“No.” John slid him a sideways glance. “We’re throwing the party after you retire.”
Seamus slapped his thigh and laughed. John allowed a smile to surface.
“Slow down.” Seamus leaned forward suddenly. “I saw someone by the Dumpster.”
John frowned. He hadn’t seen anything. Still, he had witnessed enough in the past months to convince him of Seamus’s instincts as a cop. He pulled over and Seamus was already opening the door.
“I’ll check it out, Chief.”
Seamus flashed him an impatient look. “I’m retiring, Gabriel, but I don’t need a baby-sitter yet.”
They approached the back of the warehouse on foot and John made sure he was ahead of his chief as they neared the building.
“Window’s out.” John made a slow turn with the beam of the flashlight. “I’ll call for backup.”
Suddenly, bodies erupted from the gaping hole in the glass, smoke trailing behind them. Three teenage boys were captured in the light, their eyes wide and full of panic.
“Our b-buddy—he’s still in there,” one of them stammered.
Seamus was disappearing through the hole before John could react. He called Dispatch, requesting both backup and the fire department, then turned toward the boys. They scattered in three different directions. John decided Seamus was more important. He broke the rest of the glass out with his flashlight and climbed through.
“Get out of here, Gabriel!” Seamus was a dim shadow in the smoke-filled interior of the warehouse. “It’s not just a fire. Clear out!”
“He said there was someone else in here,” John muttered, and then realized with sudden clarity that the only ones trapped in the building were he and Seamus.
There was an ominous popping sound and John instinctively threw himself at the older man. He felt his body connect with the chief’s before heat enveloped him and his vision blurred. Something thudded into his arm, pushing him to the floor.
Sirens screamed in the distance. John pulled Seamus toward the window and saw hands reaching for them. Pain radiated through his body now and there was a gray haze around everything that was getting thicker.
I guess we’ll both be retiring, John thought bleakly, before the heat totally consumed his thoughts.
Chapter One
Ten Years Later
The door opened at ten o’clock. A shaft of light escaped, stretching across the well-kept lawn and briefly illuminating a crescent-shaped flower bed, a pot of geraniums and a garden hose that hadn’t been put away.
The dog appeared first, a German shepherd that practically exploded from the confines of the house. It turned a few circles and then attacked the hose. Seconds later, a person emerged. Blue jeans. White T-shirt. A glint of auburn hair.
“Come on, Colin.”
The husky words were clearly audible from where he stood in the shadows.
He was going to strangle the chief. Finn Kelly was a woman. When John had gotten an urgent message from Seamus the day before about a family emergency, he had pressed into service an acquaintance who had two things—a private plane and an old girlfriend he wanted to look up—which had taken John from a hotel in Denver to Seamus’s house in Miranda Station, Wisconsin. He’d assumed that Finn was one of the chief’s many grandsons, and for some reason—which John didn’t want to examine too closely—Seamus had failed to mention the family emergency was female. Only the tenuous thread of their past friendship had prevented John from leaving Miranda Station the minute he’d spotted Finn Kelly. When Seamus answered the door the next morning, John said the first words that summed up his feelings.
“Are you crazy?”
“Hello, John. It’s good to see you again, too.” Seamus smiled.
“Absolutely not.”
“You saw Finn. I should have known you’d do your homework. When did you get into town?”
“You conveniently forgot to tell me that your family emergency was a woman. You just wasted your time.”
“Fiona is my granddaughter, not just a woman. Would you like a glass of iced tea? Or maybe some coffee?”
“No, thank you,” John growled. “I can’t take time off from work to baby-sit some rookie cop.”
“I talked to your boss yesterday,” Seamus said. “He mentioned you haven’t taken time off in about five years. I’d say you deserve a vacation.”
John glared at him. “No.”
Seamus lost some of his calm. “You are the only one I trust, John. Something is going on at the department. Maybe it has something to do with the fact she’s the first female patrol officer. She won’t talk about what’s happening…she’s distracted. I’m worried about her.”
“Maybe she’s one Kelly who isn’t cut out for a career in law enforcement,” John said. “It could be she’s bringing this on herself—”
“You meet her and decide,” Seamus interrupted. “But I know my granddaughter.”
“Just out of curiosity, how are you going to explain why I’m here?”
Seamus’s eyes brightened. “You’re an old friend, why wouldn’t you come for a visit? And I happened to talk to Chief Larson at the P.D. He jumped at the chance to have you give his men some training on the latest techniques for handling Internet crimes.”
John shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket. “I’m not saying yes,” he warned.
“Just say yes to dinner tonight,” Seamus said. “Anne is making pot roast.”
Fiona Kelly decided to walk home after work. She had half an hour before her grandparents expected her for dinner and she needed to clear her thoughts. Chief, as her grandfather was affectionately known even to members of his family, and her grandmother, Anne, invited her over for dinner at least twice a week.
After she had been hired by the police department in Miranda Station, she’d moved into a small house tucked in a grove of maples just beyond her grandparents’ two-story brick home. It was tiny, made of fieldstone and wood, and had once been a guest house for the larger estate. As she got closer, she could hear Colin bark a greeting. Her spirits lifted slightly and she walked faster. His face appeared in the window, tongue lolling. The curtains moved vigorously, propelled by his wagging tail. She barely had the key in the lock and he was whining at the door.
“Colin, back!” She jumped to the side as he burst out.
Ignoring her, he ran around the yard and then veered back to attack the garden hose again.
“Colin, no!” She couldn’t help it. She started laughing. “Leave the poor hose alone. It’s dead. If you’d done that to those silly dummies at training camp, you wouldn’t be out of a job,” she scolded.
He blinked at her and trotted over, pushing his wedge-shaped face into her hand.
“Guilty conscience, hmm?” She rubbed his ear. “If you behave yourself you can come with me.”
Shedding the uniform and the bullet-proof vest she wore for her shift was a welcome relief, and she changed into a white sundress sprinkled with blue flowers and pale green ivy. Stepping into a pair of leather sandals, she called Colin to her side and they headed over to the house.
As she walked into her grandparents’ home through the open patio doors, she heard masculine voices. One belonged to Seamus, the other she didn’t recognize. Her heart dropped suddenly and she pursed her lips. The previous month a man from the fire department had “unexpectedly” shown up right before dinner. As a teen, she had started praying for the man that God would someday bring into her life—the man she would eventually marry. It was difficult to explain to Seamus that the Lord didn’t need any help from a matchmaking grandfather!
“Hi, Chief.”
“Finn!”
As Seamus rose from the chair, Finn winced at the stiffness in his movements. At seventy-five, her grandfather was finally beginning to show signs of his age.
“I see you brought that failure from the academy with you,” he teased.
“He may have failed at the academy but he’s succeeding as a pet.” She reached up and kissed her grandfather’s weathered cheek. “You’ll hurt his feelings if you keep talking like that.”
“Well, John, come and meet my granddaughter, Fiona, champion of the underdog.”
The man who had been sitting with his back to her suddenly rose to his feet. Seamus’s words dissolved in Finn’s ears as she looked at the stranger in front of her. She was caught and held captive by two jewel-green eyes.
“Finn, this is John Gabriel.”
The words pieced themselves together again, and Finn instinctively put out her hand, a gesture of politeness that the man ignored. Still trapped in his gaze, she frowned slightly.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Fiona,” he said formally.
Finn’s hand remained empty and she glanced down. John Gabriel’s arm was missing from the elbow down.
John watched the momentary confusion on her face but wasn’t inclined to help her out. Then she astounded him by smiling.
“John Gabriel. You saved Chief’s life, didn’t you? You’re practically family, then, and family members get hugs, not handshakes.”
Before John could react, she stepped forward and embraced him easily. Over the top of her head, he saw Seamus grin. He stiffened, but she had already let go of him, leaving a light, flowery fragrance behind.
“And call me Finn. Everyone does.”
“Finn, I thought I heard your voice. Snuck in through the patio, did you?” Anne Kelly appeared in the doorway. “Hi, Colin. Good dog.” Colin thumped his tail in appreciation and Seamus snorted. “Supper is ready.”
They filed into the dining room, the room that Anne Kelly saved for company, but there was nothing stuffy about the decor. The floors were hardwood that had mellowed over time and the curtains were a breezy muslin that welcomed the sunshine. The table was set for four.
John was still in shock from his introduction to Finn Kelly. The moonlight hadn’t done her justice. Medium height and slender, she had delicate features framed by the pale auburn hair that had been passed down from the original Kellys. This young woman was a police officer? She looked like she wasn’t old enough to hold a driver’s license!
“Will you say grace, Finn?” Anne asked.
Finn nodded and glanced at him. Her eyes were gray, ringed with indigo. The room suddenly felt very small. And he didn’t even hear her prayer.
The following hour was spent in pleasant, but meaningless, conversation. Finn noticed that both Chief and John Gabriel carefully avoided bringing up old memories. She had been only thirteen years old when the accident happened. She vividly recalled visiting her grandfather in the hospital and hearing her family whisper about the young police officer who had used his body to shield Chief from the explosion. Her grandpa was all right, that was all that mattered in her way of thinking, but she knew that John Gabriel was a hero. She had heard his name mentioned occasionally over the years and knew that he and Chief still kept in touch, but she hadn’t realized the extent of his sacrifice until now.
“What do you do, John?” Finn asked during a lull in the conversation. She felt the force of his gaze once again and it was unsettling. She had had a chance to covertly study him during dinner and decided he was an attractive man. A faint burn scar that ran from temple to chin didn’t detract from the strong, clean lines of his face. His hair, the color of coffee with a splash of cream, touched the collar of his black polo shirt.
“I work for a private agency that investigates crime,” he answered evenly.
Finn was silent for a moment, a nagging suspicion beginning to form. “What’s the name of the agency?”
“I doubt you are familiar with it, Finn.”
“Try me.” She smiled sweetly.
“The Madison Agency.”
Finn recognized the name immediately. “Another group of untouchables, right? The agency that solves crimes that are considered unsolvable. Wasn’t it Madison that found that little girl who was kidnapped and taken to Pakistan last year?”
Seamus laughed, although it sounded a trifle forced. “My goodness, lass. Not too many people know about the Madison Agency.”
“I read a lot,” Finn said, winking at him. “Here, Gran, let me help you clear the table.”
“Well,” Seamus said earnestly, leaning forward after the women had gone into the other room, “just hang around here a little while and keep an eye on her. Tell me if all this is the product of an old man’s imagination.”
John closed his eyes. What he saw in Finn Kelly was a woman who was too fragile for police work and didn’t want to admit it. Maybe there was some kind of discrimination going on among a few of the men who couldn’t stomach a female officer, but he doubted it was anything truly sinister.
“Chief.” The title slipped out easily. “Don’t you think that maybe—”
“Excuse me.” Anne poked her head around the corner. “Seamus, Cory is on the phone. Shall I tell him you’ll call him back?”
“Go ahead.” John sighed, not wanting to deny Seamus a call from his son. “I won’t run out the back door while you’re gone.”
“See that you don’t,” Seamus muttered.
John had been alone for all of one minute when Finn came back into the room. How many women actually wore dresses for no occasion at all? He turned away and stared out the window.
“Mr. Gabriel? John—I know why you’re here.”
Startled, he swung around and discovered she was inches away from him. “You do?”
Finn glanced at the door. “You found out about Chief’s heart problems, didn’t you.”
“His heart problems?” John repeated slowly.
“He’s had two minor attacks in the past six months,” Finn murmured. “He doesn’t like to complain, but I know he’s in pain. Your visit will do him good. How long are you going to stay?”
John couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth. “Probably just a week or so.”
