Alpha's Christmas Flame by AJ Tipton

Author:AJ Tipton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AJ Tipton

Chief Brody’s name on the caller ID seemed to judge him. Dean didn’t dare look at Donna, or think about what had almost happened.

“Yes, sir?” Dean said into the phone. He hoped his dread wasn’t apparent over the phone. Why? Why the hell did I call my old boss?

“You said you had a problem, son.” Chief Brody’s gruff voice sounded extra gravelly through the phone’s speakers.

Dean grabbed at his pants, pulling his legs through so fast he nearly put them on backward. “No, that’s not necessary sir. I think I’ve got it all figured out. You don’t need to come.” He glanced at Donna, but she was already moving, grabbing clothes and throwing some files over the desk to hide the poker game. Dean desperately tried to remember how much detail he’d told Brody over the phone. He’d been worried enough about sounding crazy that he hadn’t wanted to go into detail over the phone, but was had he said? “I’ve got everything under control.”

“In my experience, kid, when one of my men says that, that’s exactly when I need to send in backup. In any case, I’m already here.”

“What?” Dean pulled open Donna’s office door and stopped.

Chief Brody stood in the middle of the hallway, his phone still pressed to his ear. He didn’t look much different than when he retired a couple of years before: the same strong shoulders, the same slight paunch over his belt, the same wrinkles like geographic landmarks across his forehead. He seemed a little more tired than Dean remembered, but he still had the same quiet dignity.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Dean felt sweat dripping down his back.

“Chief,” Dean said.

“Michaelson. It’s been a while, son.” Brody’s eyes looked Dean up and down, only the slightest tweak of an eyebrow revealing he had any opinion on Dean’s disheveled clothing. “You told me there was a problem. Did the problem steal your shirt?”

“No, uh, no,” Dean stammered. “There was a fire…”

“A fire burned your clothes off? You know better than to lie to me, boy,” Brody said. “What’s really going on?”

“Umm…” Dean knew he couldn’t show Brody the electrical room. Either of them. The real one would get the chief to call in all the scary three-letter government agencies, and the fake one wouldn’t fool him for an instant. “There was a fire. We’re not sure about where the origin point was. I needed a second opinion.”

Brody made a small, disbelieving grunt and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. “And why aren’t you calling up the boys at your office? If this is a potential crime scene, you know better than to be calling in old retired dogs like me.”

“You’re hardly an old dog,” Donna jumped in.

“It’s a long story,” Dean said. “Let me put some shoes on and then I’ll show you the site.”

Brody gave him another long, assessing look. “Alright, son, you do that.”

Dean ducked into the office and started pulling on the rest of his clothes. His shoe had ended up so far under the sofa that it took him an embarrassingly long time to reach it.

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