No More Wasted Time: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

Back down in the apparatus bay after touring the bunk rooms, he turned to Becca.

“Your crew can stand down,” he instructed. “I need a private word with you, please, Chief Roberts.”

“Cappy,” Becca said.

Cappy told the crew to stand down while Becca led Chief Comstock to her office. Once inside, with the door closed, they sat down.

“To be frank,” Chief Comstock began, “I didn’t come here for an inspection, Roberts. But since you obviously expected one, I figured, why not?”

“Yes, sir,” Becca replied. “In that case, what can I do for you, sir?”

“I’ve read the reports about that fire the other day,” the chief said. “I want to hear it from you, though…What the hell did O’Reilly do?” He leaned forward and stared at Becca with his steely gray eyes. “None of your usual diplomatic bullshit, Roberts. I want to know the straight story.”

Becca swallowed. The chief was putting her in an awkward position. She may not particularly like O’Reilly—not very many people did—but there was still an unspoken code that you don’t badmouth a superior officer to that officer’s superior officer. Shit runs downhill, not uphill.

However, she also knew Comstock would call her out if she tried her “usual diplomatic bullshit.” So, she gave the chief the straight story.

“And you tried to advise him on the best course of action?” Chief Comstock asked when she was done.

“I tried,” Becca said. “But the deputy was, shall we say, not very interested in my opinions.”

Chief Comstock sighed.

“He shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” he said. “Sure, on the sidelines, running tactical, fine. I expect that. But geared up? Taking actual command of fighting the fire and rescuing firefighters? Jesus Christ, Roberts…even I wouldn’t do that. I’d probably end up making the situation worse—which is exactly what Butch did, the stubborn son of a bitch.”

Becca remained silent.

“It’s a perishable skill, Roberts,” the chief went on, somewhat sadly. “I’m not sure I even deserve to be called a firefighter any longer.”

He stood. Becca shot to her feet also.

“Becca,” the chief said, “after I leave here I’m going to Butch O’Reilly’s house and I am going to have a conversation with him that will take less than ten minutes.” He looked at his watch. “This means that I should be leaving his house just before eleven-thirty. From that time forward, Becca, consider yourself the acting deputy chief of the Carlsbad Fire Department.”

Becca was stunned and she knew her face showed it.

“You’re firing the deputy, sir?”

Chief Comstock shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Despite everything, Butch deserves to ride off into the sunset like a man. But I am going to strongly suggest he move up his retirement date to right now. Later this afternoon, I want you in my office to discuss those ideas you had; the ones about the…What did you call it? The ‘fighting deputy’ thing.”

Becca smiled.

“Actually, sir, it was my girlfriend who came up with that idea.”

“Really? I knew I liked her. Does she want a job with the fire department?”

Becca laughed.

“Krissy? She’s amazing, sir, but she would probably run away screaming from the flame if she found herself too close to somebody lighting their cigarette.”

Chief Comstock laughed.

“Congratulations, Roberts,” he said, holding out his hand. “I think we’ll make a great team.”

Chapter 30

“Oh my god, we have to celebrate!” Krissy exclaimed when Becca told her the news the next morning over the phone. She was in her mission control-like home office and was between meetings.