Free Breaking Protocol (Firehouse Fourteen Book 3) by Lisa B. Kamps

item off, both on paper and in her mind. One last look around, just to be sure she didn't miss anything, then she scrawled her signature at the bottom of the sheet and climbed down.
    She'd file this, then catch up on her other reports. That was the one thing she hated the most: paperwork. No matter how much time she spent on it, there always seemed to be more waiting. Probably because that was the one thing she couldn't seem to do quickly, no matter how much time she allowed herself.
    Of course, even she admitted that it wouldn't take quite so long to do if she actually filled out the paperwork, instead of staring at the reports and letting her mind wander aimlessly until she lost all track of time. At least she was honest enough with herself to admit that she wasn't a paperwork kind of person. Never had been, probably never would be.
    She pushed through the swinging doors that connected the hangar to the office and living quarters, then turned into the radio room and tossed the clipboard on the desk. She crossed the hall into the small area that passed for a breakroom and made a beeline for the coffee pot.
    Tony Fordham, her partner and pilot, looked up from the newspaper and watched her. "Heard you had some excitement at your place the other night."
    "Of course you did. Heaven forbid anything remain a secret around this place. And they say women gossip." She offered him a smile as she took a sip of the strong coffee then sat at the table across from him. "So what was the story by the time you heard it? Mutilated bodies? Sex orgies? Murder and mayhem?"
    Tony laughed, folding the paper neatly in half before tossing it to the middle of the table. "Nah. Just heard that some psycho left a threatening note on your porch, but that it was meant for your 'friend'."
    "Wow, not bad. I figured it would have been exaggerated into something more exciting by now." CC reached for the paper, pointedly ignoring Tony's questioning look. Less than a minute went by before he pulled the paper away and fixed her with a steady gaze from his cool green eyes.
    "So you want to share the details?"
    "Not particularly, no."
    Tony tugged harder on the paper, finally pulling it away from her. "That's not going to fly with me and you know it. Spill it. Who's the guy?"
    CC rolled her eyes then took another sip of coffee. "He's a paramedic with the county."
    "And?"
    "And what? And nothing."
    "Really?" He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest. "And he just happened to come visiting at seven in the morning, hm?"
    "What can I say? He's an early riser." CC mentally flinched at her choice of words, a vivid image clearly forming in her mind of just how much of an early riser Big Guy really was.
    "Holy shit, you're blushing!"
    "I am not, now hush."
    "Yes, you are. Your cheeks are all pink and blotchy. That's definitely a blush."
    "No, it's not. It's irritation from you bugging me."
    "Hmm-mm. So, does this guy have a name? Where'd you meet him? How long have you known him?"
    "What is this, the third degree? You're worse than my brother."
    "I'm your surrogate brother, so start talking."
    CC turned in her seat and grabbed for the paper, deliberately ignoring him. She knew it wouldn't work, but there was no way she was going to answer Tony's questions.
    Especially not the one about how long she'd known Dave. No way. Because the answer just sounded all wrong and she'd never hear the end of it.
    "Fine. I'll drop it for now. Tell me about this threatening note."
    CC dropped the paper to the table with a sigh, knowing she'd get no chance to read it until answering at least a few of Tony's questions. She shook her head. Not in refusal to answer, but rather in hesitation, trying to figure out how to explain.
    On the surface, the note and texts were disturbing, which was bad enough. But underneath, there was something more sinister, something that sent a chill racing along her spine. But she couldn't pinpoint it, couldn't even begin to explain it. It