We need to go, Mrs. Sands.” Rachel O’Malley stopped the elderly lady from turning toward her living room and instead steered her toward the front door and the waiting Red Cross volunteer. Shutters rattled and a misty rain blew in the open door, dampening the hallway. The Des Plaines River was surging through the levee; and getting people to safety was the priority. It was Tuesday, March 13, and rains across Chicago had triggered rapid flooding along six miles of the river.

“I need my pictures.”

“Yes, ma’am. But I’m afraid there isn’t time.” Rachel shifted the birdcage and medicine bag she carried to help Mrs. Sands with her raincoat. “This wind is strong, so let Nora and the officer help you.”

With twenty minutes warning to leave their homes, residents were able to grab a few clothes and personal items but that was it. Nora took Mrs. Sands’s arm and helped her walk to the waiting rescue vehicle. Rachel handed her personal items to the officer.

In the twilight, torchlights bobbed like fireflies along the block as three police officers and two other Red Cross workers took part in the evacuation search. Rachel worked disasters for a living, but she would never get used to floods. Little could be done once the flooding took ground. Rachel placed a red fluorescent square on the garage door of 58 Governor Street to mark it as confirmed empty. Cold, muddy water swirled over her boots and reached to her jeans as she waded into the water to cut across the yard.

The next house was set back from the road, with sloping, landscaped grounds. Located closer to the river, the house was suffering the most damage of any so far as water poured in through the backyard and rushed around the house to flow down Governor Street. Rachel fought against the water to walk up the driveway. It took her feet out from under her. She instinctively threw her arms up to protect her head as she was swept downhill toward the street. It was her second dunking of the day.

She slammed up against fire boots.

“Got you.” The reassuring words came moments before hands slid around her jacket and hauled her to her feet. Captain Cole Parker stood in the rushing water with his feet braced apart and let the current break around him. He’d been buttoning his fire coat.

“Thanks, Cole.” Everything on her was wet. She leaned forward and dried her face on his shirt. It was rough blue denim and she could see the white T-shirt beneath it. He had planned for the reality of this weather better than she had, with layers to fight the chill. The breadth of muscles on the man stretched the fabric taut.

“My pleasure, Rae.” His hands pushed back her dripping hair as he laughed. “You are really wet. The water bang you up any?”

“I’m okay.” She was embarrassed and annoyed that he’d seen her fall, but she couldn’t do much about any of it. Her short haircut was new, and when it was wet it lost any definition and simply became straggles of hair. She blinked water out of her eyes and sniffed, then reached for his hand and dried her eyes on the back of his cuff.

“I wish I’d brought at least a hand towel.”

She tilted her head to dislodge the water in her ear. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I’d love to have a camera right now,” Cole confirmed, his smile widening. He put his hands on her shoulders and helped her turn against the rushing waters. “Go with Jack. I’ll check the last house.”

Her brother was crossing the street toward her. He was a lieutenant in the same fire company where Cole was a captain. Cole said his premature gray hair was at least partially Jack’s fault. Jack was a careful, safety- conscious firefighter but invariably led his men in a firefight from the front lines, especially when there was someone at risk. Jack was here, and Cole, so Company 81 must have been dispatched to the scene. “I didn’t know firemen fought floods.”

Cole tugged straight the now sopping Red Cross jacket from being bunched around her back. “It looks like we’re going to learn how. The Corps of Engineers guys are stretched thin. The bridge is ours to defend.”

She raised startled eyes to meet his. “Whose blacklist are you on?”

Cole laughed. “I hope it only looks impossible. Jack said it sounds like fun. You have a change of clothes at the shelter?”

“If I don’t it’s going to be a miserable couple hours drying out.” The water was inching up around them. She glanced at the house that had been her original destination. “You’d better go check the house while you can still get to it. But please, be careful.”

“Always,” Cole promised. “Can you get me a head count at the emergency shelter and ask around about pets? I’ll be pulling my guys back from this street in about twenty minutes.”

“Will do.” Rachel grabbed Jack’s hand to keep her balance in the fast-moving waters and headed up the street toward the truck, which was on higher ground. Cole was defending the bridge. She smiled. Well at least she knew where to find him in the foreseeable future. The idea of working at the nearby shelter suddenly had more appeal.

By Friday the rushing waters were a roar in the night that grew louder the closer Cole got to the Des Plaines River. One of the residents of Governor Street forced out by the floodwaters had raised an American flag to fly over the sandbag levee that workers had named “the Alamo line.” The flag waved in the night breeze, backlit by the emergency lights that enabled workers to keep an eye on the bridge, which was now cut off and surrounded by water. It was a defiant symbol. It fit the attitude of those dealing with the disaster over the last three days.

Today had been rough. When he hadn’t been hauling sandbags or fixing pump equipment, he’d been working with the guys who were doing the dangerous job of breaking up and hauling out debris that had gotten stuck and piled up beneath the bridge. As he made his evening rounds, Cole felt a bit like a general inspecting the state of his troops. Fighting water was far from his specialty—he led the arson group—but his men had met the challenge. They’d fought the river to a draw today, and it felt great.

Cole kept a lookout for Rachel as he walked. She’d been supplying them with hot coffee and sports scores. Her caramel-colored hair had dried with a flyaway curl to it, and when he happened to catch her during the rare moments she had her reading glasses on, Rae reminded him of a studious college student, years younger than her real age.

She was thirty-five if her brother Jack was to be believed, and given the intensity of Rachel’s job working disaster scenes nationwide, Cole wasn’t surprised her hair had begun to show signs of gray. She was aging elegantly. If he couldn’t have the pleasure of her company on a date tonight, he’d settle for a few minutes to talk with her and enjoy that smile that lingered in his memory.

Cole didn’t see her and hoped that meant she was finally tucked away somewhere getting a few hour’s sleep. She had been staying at the emergency shelter rather than returning to her home a few miles south, her sleeping bag and duffel bag well used. She carried odd things in that duffel bag she considered her emergency kit. He’d seen fingernail polish and stickers and all kinds of colorful hair ribbons alongside aspirin and envelopes and postage stamps. He had slipped in a funny Hallmark card he’d picked up at one of the few businesses in the area determined to stay open. He wanted her thinking about him with a smile and a laugh tonight.

Spotting the yellow smiley face on the back of Jack O’Malley’s fire coat, Cole changed directions and headed toward the blue pump engine. The engine had been retired and replaced by more modern equipment years ago, but in a fight like this one, anything that could pump water had been called out.

Jack was working on the top of the levee, pushing thirty- pound bags around. Beside him a six-inch-main fire hose was taut, stretched up and over the wall of sandbags, dumping water into the river as fast as the pumps could throw it back. Cole stopped by the front bumper of the pump engine, curious as to what was going on, cracking open another peanut while he waited for Jack to finish what he was doing. His pocketful of peanuts was turning out to be dinner tonight.

His friend hauled the hose into the new cradle he had made. The shoot of water became a water fountain with spotlights illuminating the flood area. Jack reached down and lifted a flat cardboard box onto the sandbags. Moments later a yellow rubber duck with black sunglasses dropped into the shooting water and reappeared in the middle of the river.

Jack was playing.

The swift-moving water carried the yellow duck downriver and under the bridge, where it disappeared.

“Nice shot.”

Jack turned on his perch. “We’ve got ten thousand of them. I figure they won’t miss a couple dozen.” He dropped another one and the water shot it into the river where it bobbed upside down, righted itself, and got slaughtered by a tree branch it slammed into.

The local chamber of commerce had been planning a duck race as its opening event in a charity fund-raising drive. They had ten thousand ducks stored in the fire department’s maintenance garage. It looked like they would be stuck with them for a good long time—the event had been canceled.

“Hold on to a box for Adam tomorrow. He’ll love them,” Cole said.

“That’s what I was thinking.”

The boy’s home was visible through the trees during the day, the water now up to the middle of the living room windows, the mailbox at the roadside underwater. Adam was down here every day, helping them. He had to watch the river destroy his home. They were all trying to make the situation a little easier on him.

“Does the river look like it’s picking up speed?”

Jack reached for his inside pocket and pulled out a stopwatch. He timed the next duck as it raced between two poles they’d marked with red flags. “Eight-point-two seconds. It’s really moving now.”

“The crest should hit in another forty-eight hours.”

“I saw what looked like a small propane tank go by that was rolling like a cork. Someone’s backyard grill probably got ripped apart.”

“The cemetery off Rosecrans Road flooded this evening. That ground was as much loose sand as dirt. I bet this river current is eating it up like mulch,” Cole said.

“You know about the most ugly things.”

“I work at it.” Cole didn’t mention that Jack’s sister Lisa had stopped by to drop off two body bags. Lisa’s boss, the medical examiner, remembered the last time he’d received a body pulled from the river. It was wrapped in a curtain for want of a better covering. He’d sent out his central staff today to make sure rescue crews were prepared. It was inevitable that someone would attempt to drive across a flooded street, try to reach a flooded home, or otherwise act before they thought. The river would have no mercy.

Cole gestured toward the pump engine. “How’s it holding up?”

“Beautifully. This baby could pump the whole river if we asked her to.”

Jack was wet and tired. The hyperbole was getting a bit thick, but he had cause. He’d been keeping the old pump engine in top shape through scraped knuckles and frustrating part replacements. This was her moment to shine. And so far she was holding her own against the heavy seepage.

The sandbags were slowing down the river and forcing it to soak rather than slam through the levee. The pumps still had to keep up with the fact that unless the water working its way through was repelled, the river would flood the city sewers.

“I’m laying a new line of bags around the bank just in case. It’s going to rise at least another six inches before the crest. Anything you need?” Cole asked.

“Coffee. Dry socks. Cassie.”

“Interesting order you put those in. I won’t tell Cassie you made her third.” Cassie Ellis and Jack had been dating since last fall, and Cole was looking forward to seeing them married someday. A former firefighter, Cassie had been badly burned in a nursing-home fire. Cole admired the way she’d dealt with that tragedy and rebuilt her life.

“Coffee and socks are not a problem. I’ve got Cassie supervising the hauling out of the library historical documents. If it can’t be replaced, there’s no use taking chances.” Cole glanced at the ducks. “But I’ll send her down later if you want to put her name on one of those.” He dug out a black waterproof marker from his coat pocket and tossed it to Jack. “She’ll get a kick out of it.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“Don’t fall in.”

Jack laughed and picked up a duck to start his artwork.

Cole moved on to check the rest of the guys working the front line.

Rachel’s legs were numb and her left arm ached. She would not have moved for the world. Nathan Noles was finally asleep, hiccup-sob-sighs still occasionally shaking his small frame. Tear-drenched lashes covered his big, brown, break-her-heart eyes. Life was rough when you were three and your favorite blanket was missing, swallowed up in the fast moving waters that had swirled into his home on Governor Street.

Rachel rubbed her thumb in small circles on his back. They were buddies. The teddy bear she had offered him to take the place of his blanket was now muddy in spots and still clutched under one arm. Nathan had latched on to it and refused to let go.

She didn’t have a family of her own, but she had her dreams. A lump rose in her throat as she looked at the sleeping child. She wanted a son like him. She kissed his forehead and smoothed out the wrinkles in the warm pajama top, then tucked the blanket around his shoulders.

Nathan’s family had arrived at the emergency shelter while Rachel was setting up tables for the Red Cross help desk. She found her duffel bag, which she had tossed in a corner, and pushed aside her blue sweatshirt to retrieve the bear tucked in the corner. “This is Joseph. He’s old and kind of beat up, but would you like him, Nathan? He’s a friendly bear.”

The boy’s eyes glanced from her to the bear. Nathan sniffed and reached out to wrap his hand around the bear’s arm. He tucked Joseph close and sighed, then leaned his head back down against his mom’s shoulder.

A shared smile with Nathan’s mom and Rachel had made her first friend of this tragedy. Ann Noles was a single mom who worked emergency dispatch for the 911 center. She was staying optimistic that something in her house could be salvaged. Rachel found in Ann a kindred spirit.

Nathan’s brother Adam was asleep now, his sleeping bag spread on top of one of the gym mats. Rachel reached over and picked up the paperback he’d been reading with the help of a small flashlight, marked the page he was on, and slid it in his backpack. A teddy bear had helped Nathan; she was still working on something for Adam. The flooding had destroyed a four-year collection of comic books he had mowed yards and run errands to be able to buy.

Ann would be moving her family from the shelter to stay with friends tomorrow, for it would be some time before they could get back into their home to start the cleanup. Adam wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going back to school on Monday. The guys working on the levees had made him welcome. It was much more exciting than school.

Rachel leaned her head against Nathan’s, closed her eyes, and sought a few moments of rest. Her days began before dawn. Floods were harder to work than tornadoes because they first exhausted people with a fight against the water and then presented them with nothing but devastation. The tragedy would strike home anew when people could see the loss—chairs punched through ceilings, furniture smashed and piled up by the water, plaster collapsed, appliances destroyed. Exhaustion and dashed hopes would overwhelm people.

Rachel had built her life around helping hurting people, but she just wasn’t as young as she used to be, and the pace wore at her. Being a trauma psychologist for the Red Cross was a young person’s profession. Not everyone was able to remain as optimistic as Ann, and keeping other people’s spirits up inevitably drained her own.

How is Jennifer doing?

Whenever Rachel paused in the midst of her day, her thoughts returned to her sister. Jennifer’s cancer had gone through a brief remission, then came back more aggressive than before. It was around her spine and had moved into her liver. This return stay at Johns Hopkins was lasting longer than her first admission a year ago. The news wasn’t good. Rachel had to get back to Baltimore to see her.

Having a close family was one of those dreams that had come true with the O’Malleys, and the idea of losing her sister to this cancer… The thought was enough to make tears return. Jennifer was the most precious friend she had.

“He’s in love.”

Rachel opened her eyes and blinked away the moisture before turning her head and offering a smile. She hadn’t heard Cole come into the gym. “So am I.”

He sat down on the mat to her left. Mud had stained the shirt he put on this morning. She was tempted to reach over and try to brush some of it off. It would dry stiff and be uncomfortable, but she knew he wasn’t done for the evening. He’d be walking the sandbag levee several times through the night.

He opened the duffel bag he’d left near hers and found dry socks. “Did you get some dinner?”

“They brought in chicken tonight.”

“I’ll buy you a real dinner when this is over.”

“It’s a deal.”

He paused to look over. “Really?”

She chuckled at his reaction. “How many times have I pleaded work as an excuse lately?”

He smiled at her. “Three, but who’s counting?”

She’d spent enough time with Cole since Christmas to know that she more than just enjoyed his company. She was looking at a guy she could spend the rest of her life with. And as hopeful and joyous as that idea was, as much as she wanted to explore what their relationship might become, she just didn’t have much time or energy to offer at the moment.

She knew the other O’Malleys would catch wind of their relationship soon. She had done her best not to mention Cole too often around them to avoid the speculation. But in trying to save herself and Cole from some of that family attention, she’d probably been more cautious with him than warranted. “Let’s not do Mexican.”

“How about Chinese?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” His gaze shifted to the boy she held. He reached over and tucked Nathan’s teddy bear closer. “He looks comfortable.”

“I like kids.”

“Me too.”

She smiled and rested her head against Nathan, choosing to let the comment pass.

“Ann is just finishing up at dispatch,” Cole mentioned. “Are you okay with the boys for another twenty minutes?”

“Yes.”

Cole leaned his head back against the wall, folded his arms across his chest, and closed his eyes. “Wake me when she gets back.”

Rachel hesitated for a moment, doubt creeping in just for an instant that she was reading Cole’s interest in Ann correctly. “Sure.”

He didn’t open his eyes but he did smile. “She’s a friend, Rae. I like her boys. But it’s your brother who has his eyes on their mom.”

“Stephen?” She had only one brother not involved in a serious relationship at the moment. Her surprise woke Nathan.

“Hmm. Only reason I can think of for why a paramedic hangs around dispatch on a Friday night.”

She could think of another, but still… “He offered to help them move to her friend’s tomorrow.”

“I heard that too.”

Ann had mentioned that she’d met Stephen, but she hadn’t asked anything beyond a couple of general questions. Rachel thought about it as she rocked Nathan back to sleep. “Stephen?”

Cole chuckled and reached over to pat her shoulder. “You’ve been busy.”

Rachel saw a sliver of light appear as the door to the gym opened and the person entering the room paused to let her eyes adjust to the dim light inside. Ann crossed the room with care and eased down on the air mattress beside her.

“Nathan woke and realized you were gone,” Rachel whispered. She waited until Ann was settled, then eased Nathan onto his mom’s lap, immediately missing the weight and comfort of holding him. Rachel tugged a tissue from her jean’s pocket and wiped away a tear trace from the boy’s cheek. “How was work?”

“Hectic.” Ann lowered her head against her son’s and closed her eyes. “I’m so tired the air mattress will feel like a featherbed tonight.”

“I put your ice pack in the freezer. Want to use it for twenty minutes before you crash?” Ann had waded into the flooding to help a neighbor and had unfortunately taken a hard shot from a floating tree limb.

Ann nodded. “I could use it. Thanks.”

Rachel went to get the ice pack. She snagged two tapioca pudding cups and spoons on the way back. It was nice having a friend to share the quiet moments with at the shelter. Pausing inside the doorway, she searched among the three-by-five cards on the corkboard with her penlight. She found five messages for Ann and took them with her across the gym. Ann was cuddling with Nathan.

“A few messages were left for you today. And Cole said he needed to talk to you.” The man slept so soundly he hadn’t stirred at their quiet conversation. After three days of fighting the river, his exhaustion had to be complete. Every time Rachel had seen him he was in the middle of the work.

“Let him sleep. He was passing on a message from my cousin, and I got it just before I left work.” Ann leaned around Nathan and settled the ice on her knee. She sucked in a breath at the cold.

Rachel winced in sympathy. “You need to see a doctor.”

“It’s just bruised. I should have gotten up and walked more today. Sitting just made it stiffen.” Ann relaxed and opened the pudding cup.

Rachel offered the Hallmark card Cole had left for her. Ann laughed as she read it, glancing at the sleeping Cole, then back at Rachel. “He’s sweet on you.” She handed back the card.

“I hope so.” Rachel tucked it in her bag to make sure it got home with her. “I’m thinking about being gone for a couple days,” she said, testing out the idea.

“Going out East to see your sister?”

“Trying to figure out the logistics of making it happen.”

“You should go.”

The kids needed her. Her sister Jennifer needed her. Rachel was stuck with the reality that she couldn’t be two places at once. “I’ll be back before the water recedes.”

Ann smiled. “Trust me, the water will still be here.” She laid Nathan down and stretched out beside him. “I heard a rumor today.”

“What’s that?”

Ann reached over and rubbed Adam’s back. “Jack was behind my son’s desire to toss a ship in a bottle into the river.”

Rachel licked the lid of her pudding cup. “My brother is a kid at a heart.”

“I noticed that. Adam talks about him all the time. Jack’s a good man.”

“All my brothers are. Stephen is the responsible one.” Rachel bunched her pillow behind her head and stretched out on her own sleeping bag.

“I’ve noticed. He brought me flowers tonight.”

“Did he?”

“Hmm,” Ann murmured.

Rachel hesitated, wondering if Ann would say more. “If you’d like to go out, I’ll baby-sit for you.”

“He didn’t ask me.”

Rachel pushed herself up on her elbow. “Why not?”

“Good question. Will you ask him for me?”

Rachel reached for her jacket and her phone.

Ann stayed her hand as she smiled. “Tomorrow is soon enough.”

“You’re ruining my fun.”

Ann chuckled. “Thanks, Rae.”

“For what?”

“Telling Stephen to bring me flowers.”

She’d been found out. “You’re welcome. I kind of figured you needed something to brighten your day.”

“Don’t apologize. A nice guy bringing me flowers and flirting fits the bill beautifully.”

“I didn’t tell him to flirt.”

Ann smiled. “Exactly. It was nice for morale. I’ll take you up on the baby-sitting. Tell Stephen I like a good steak and salad.”

“Done.” Rachel had never met a crisis that flowers couldn’t help. It sounded like sending Stephen on that errand had turned out to be a good move. Rachel tucked her arm under her head and closed her eyes. It was after eleven, and in six hours she would be starting another long day.

Rachel woke to the sensation of someone tickling her wrist. She moved her hand, smiling. “Cole, that—” she murmured, opening her eyes. No one was there. Her pager was going off. She had clipped it to a sweatband on her wrist to ensure that she would wake if it went off. She tugged it free and looked at the number. Her heart broke at the special number, suspecting what the page meant. She slipped from the sleeping bag, left the gym, and returned the page in the quiet hall.

“Rachel, he didn’t come tonight.”

Marissa was crying.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Rachel walked outside and sat down on the steps, hearing the hurt and wishing Mr. Collins could see past his own grief to understand what he was doing to his daughter. Marissa was a junior in high school, and her music competition had been tonight, the top awards included scholarships to college. Tonight had mattered.

“I got your message. Mom said I should call you back in the morning.”

“I asked you to call,” Rachel said. “Trust me, friends don’t care about the time. How did you do?”

“Second.”

“I’m proud of you, Marissa.”

“Linda took first. Her solo was wonderful.”

“There’s always next year.”

“I wanted Dad to be there.”

“I know, honey. He gave his word. He should have been there.” Marissa had lost her leg in a car accident two years ago. Traumatic enough for a young girl, but her dad had been driving and he’d never been able to get past his own grief. He had walked out last year. Broken promises hurt when you’re an adult, but when you’re a child and it’s done by family— Rachel had been there, and even decades later the hurt didn’t entirely fade. The only thing she could do at this point was be a friend and listen.

“Mom took me out to eat afterward. I was too nervous before then.”

“What did you have?”

“She talked me into trying the scampi. It was pretty good.” The girl’s tears were fading. “I just thought he might come.”

“Love always hopes,” Rachel said softly. “He’s still hurting over the fact that he was driving.”

“Yeah.”

Marissa had fought for two years to get her life back. But family wounds hurt so much deeper than physical ones.

“Am I doing something wrong?” Marissa whispered.

Rachel closed her eyes. “No. Your dad always wanted to protect you. Now he feels a need to protect you from himself. It will eventually get better, Marissa. Remember when we talked about how time changes people? Keep giving him opportunities into your life. There will be a day when he’ll feel able to come. When he does, just start with ‘I love you.’”

Silence lingered. “Thanks.”

“Time, M. It will help.”

Rachel leaned over to pick up two jacks a child had missed.

“Greg Sanford asked me to the prom.”

“Did he?” Rachel was pleased to hear the news, for she knew how much Marissa had hoped to be invited. “I’ve got to meet this gentleman. I already like him. What did you say?”

“I said yes, as long as he wouldn’t ask me to dance. We’d just go.”

“Greg has been there for you this last year. Trust me, you’ll have a wonderful time.”

“I wish he didn’t graduate and leave in four months. I’m going to miss him.”

“Did he receive his acceptance papers yet?” Rachel asked, feeling out the changes coming for her friend.

“From the Air Force academy. He wants to become a pilot like his dad.” Marissa hesitated. “Do you think we could maybe have a soda next time you’re in town?”

“I’m nearby,” Rachel said. “I can meet you tomorrow, or we can do something next week when I get back from visiting Jennifer.”

“After school next week would be nice.”

“It’s a date.” Rachel wrote a note on the palm of her hand until she could update her day planner for the month of March. This kind of fatigue shot holes in her memory. “Anything you need or want me to tell your mom?”

“Everything there is okay.”

“Anything you’re not telling me that I should know?”

Marissa paused to think about it. “I’m okay there too.”

“Then I’ll see you next week. If you want to talk before then, promise to call me?”

“Yes. Thanks, Rae.”

“Honey, I’m proud of you.” Her pager went off again. “I’ll call your mom tomorrow to confirm arrangements for next week,” Rachel said as she got to her feet. It was a page from Jack, and that meant trouble at the levee.

“Cole.” Rachel shook him gently, wishing she didn’t have to wake him. He’d fallen asleep sitting against the wall with his chin tucked against his chest, arms folded. She admired his ability to close his eyes and drop off. If he worried about things, she’d never been able to figure out when. They certainly didn’t affect his sleep.

Cole opened his eyes, blinked, and focused on her.

“Jack paged. They need you at the levee.”

He took a deep breath and sighed. “Okay, I’m awake.”

“It’s 1 a.m.”

“I didn’t ask.”

She let her hand settle on his forearm as she smiled back at him. “I know, but your watch stopped. It’s blinking this strange pattern of red and white numbers. Nathan thought it was your night-light.”

“Water and watches do not mix. It’s never going to dry out.”

She stepped back as Cole rose to his feet.

“What’s going on?”

“Jack said something about too much mud in the water—it’s clogging the pumps.”

Cole reached forward and rested his hand on her shoulder. “You were up?”

“I had another call.”

“If you need a place to hide so you can get some sleep, try the front seat of one of the fire department vehicles. No one will find you.”

He was taking care of her in the same way he took care of his men. It was nice. “Thanks.”

“Take me up on it. And bring Adam down to the levee later this morning. Jack’s got something he should see.”

“I’ll do that.”

“You really said yes to finding time for dinner?” His thumb rubbed her shoulder blade. “I would hate to think I had been dreaming.”

She chuckled. “Chinese. And hopefully an evening with no interruptions.”

He was stalling, not wanting to break this moment. She didn’t either. He was so good-looking half asleep—she wanted to give him a hug and get swallowed in one in return. “Go to work, Cole.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled at her and headed toward the door.

Rachel watched him leave and then settled back on her sleeping bag. She reset her pager and wrapped her arm around her pillow. When she closed her eyes, she was still smiling. A smile from Cole and an invitation to dinner was nearly as nice as getting flowers.

“What’s happening, Jack?”

Cole found Rachel’s brother in the parking lot where they had the flat-bottom fire rescue boat parked testing brake lights on the trailer. “I didn’t want to worry Rae. Lisa needs us. She said to bring a body bag.”

“Where is she?”

“Rosecrans Road.”

Cole squeezed the bridge of his nose and tried to get past the fact that it was 1 a.m. “Please tell me she knew I was joking with her earlier. Is the body embalmed?”

“Lisa’s first words when I returned her page were, ‘the water is destroying my crime scene!’ Then she got testy. It sounds real to me.”

“You’ve got interesting sisters.”

“Tell me about it.”

Cole pulled out his keys. “I’ll drive. Do we need more than the two of us?”

“It sounds like she needs us for transport. Company 42 is working in the area.”

“Okay. Let’s go see what she’s gotten herself into.”