This story picks up where Sins of the Past – Marco ends.
E
"Marco!" Johnny called out as he exited his Rover and saw the senior linesman headed toward the back entrance of Station 51.
Marco turned and smiled as the young paramedic bounded toward him. "Man, I am so glad you aren't leaving us!" Johnny slapped him on the back.
"Me too," was all Marco said, an image of Marisol flashing through his head.
They joined Chet and Roy in the locker room. "Marco," both Roy and Chet called out as he entered the locker room. "Man, I am so glad you're back. They were gonna have Jacobs from 91 working for you today."
"Ugh," Marco grimaced. Jacobs was a nice guy, but he had a total lack of respect for personal space. The man stood so close to you when he talked you didn't have to guess what he'd eaten for lunch, you could smell it on his breath.
The four men moved out of the locker room and toward the day room to get some coffee. "Marco, it's great to see you," Mike said, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to Marco.
"Thanks, Mike," Marco said, briefly thinking that if things hadn't gone down the way they did he'd be with Marisol right now, either at Lake Tahoe, or maybe the Grand Canyon, or maybe even in Vegas getting married.
"Chet must not have seen the paper yesterday," Mike said, observing Chet's calm demeanor.
"Whatdya talkin' about?" Chet asked.
Mike handed over the front page section of the newspaper. There was a picture of Chet, the young boy from the fire the other day over his shoulder. Chet's helmet was hanging behind his head, his face covered in soot, his expression serious. The headline read, "Heroes rescue homeless family from blazing building."
"Look at that," Chet said, standing a bit straighter.
"Why are you the only one photographed?" Johnny asked, looking over his shoulder.
"They went for the handsome, Gage," Chet said.
"Give me a break," Johnny said, walking over to get his coffee.
The men moved out of the Station to line up for roll call. The bay doors were open because the plan was to wash the engine as soon as they finished roll call.
They all noticed the young lady standing at the bay entrance as they moved to the front to line up.
"Can I help you Miss?" Captain Stanley asked.
The young woman was staring at Chet. He looked at her and went to look away, but quickly looked back, his eyes narrowing. "Do I know you?" He asked.
The young girl shook her head. "I saw your picture in the paper yesterday," she said.
Chet took a step closer to her. He had to know her; she looked so familiar.
"Have we responded to a rescue with you before?"
She shook her head no again. "I don't live around here."
"How did you get here?" Roy asked, his gaze moving between Chet and the young woman. He guessed her to be about fourteen or fifteen.
"I took the bus," she said.
"Miss, do your parents know you're here?" Captain Stanley asked, starting to be concerned about her behavior.
She shook her head no again.
"I know, I know you," Chet said.
"You should," she said, her eyes meeting his. "I'm your daughter."
The guys all turned to look at Chet, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. His mind going back fifteen years to the young woman with red hair and green eyes. That opening line from "A Tale of Two Cities" summed up that time of his life perfectly. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
He blinked, and turned his attention to the young woman again. This time seeing the curliness of her hair, the shape of her nose; and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that what she said was true.
"Miss, are you sure?" Captain Stanley spoke, his eyebrows knitted together, unable to believe what she was saying.
"Yes, my mom showed me his picture a few years ago when I was asking about my father. Your name is Chester B. Kelly. You grew up in Fontana, California. You and my mom went to school together," the young girl said, her hands clasped in front of her.
"Her name is Mary Ryan," Chet said, his face pale.
"Yes, and I'm Elizabeth Ryan, but everyone calls me Lizzie."
"Lizzie, does your mother know you're here?" Roy asked, looking around.
Lizzie shook her head.
The guys exchanged looks while Chet just continued to stare.
"Lizzie, why don't you come inside. We'll get something to drink," Captain Stanley suggested. "Johnny, why don't you get Lizzie some milk."
"I'd prefer coffee," Lizzie said, her tone a bit belligerent. "I'm not a child."
"Of course not, Johnny, would you get our guest a cup of coffee," Captain Stanley corrected. He caught Mike's eye and motioned for him to come to his office.
The rest of the crew and Lizzie moved toward the kitchen.
"Mike, call headquarters and make us unavailable. I'm gonna call Lieutenant Crockett and see if he can help us track down this Mary Ryan."
"Sure thing, Cap," Mike said, moving toward the microphone.
Captain Stanley picked up the phone and dialed the number from heart. He couldn't believe how much he'd had to contact the police recently. "Ron," Captain Stanley said, when the Lieutenant answered the phone. "We have a problem down here at the station."
"It can't be C-14," Lieutenant Crockett said, knowing he'd just read a report that the gang was falling apart. Infighting to find a new leader since the death of Jose, finding out that Frank, Jose's number 2, was a member of the 18th Street gang who had infiltrated them to seek revenge on Jose for killing his brother and that Marisol, Jose's girlfriend, had been an undercover cop, had the gang members fighting among themselves trying to find a new leader and no one trusting anyone else.
"No, no, everything with Marco is fine. Unfortunately, we have an issue with Chet," Captain Stanley said, sitting down at his desk.
"Let me guess, someone has filed a harassment charge? Or he's finally gone and hurt someone with those phantom pranks."
Captain Stanley couldn't help but chuckle. "No, we've got a girl, I'd guess her to be fourteen or fifteen years old here at the station claiming Chet is her father. She's here by herself, no parent. Says her name is Elizabeth Ryan. Mother's name is Mary Ryan. Chet's from Fontana, so maybe she's from there? She said she took a bus here."
"I'll see what I can find," Lieutenant Crockett said. "If I can't find anything though, I'll come to the station and we can assume custody until her mother can be found."
"Thanks. I've made us unavailable, but I hate to leave us unavailable for long."
"I'll be in touch with you soon, Hank."
Captain Stanley moved from his office to find all the guys sitting around the table, no one saying anything. Lizzie had a cup of black coffee in front of her and was trying not to grimace with each sip she took.
Captain Stanley moved to the coffee pot and poured himself some coffee. "Lizzie, would you like milk or sugar with your coffee?"
Lizzie looked around at all the guys drinking black coffee. "No, I like it like this, thanks."
Captain Stanley shot Chet a look and Chet shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know what his Captain wanted from him. Chet felt like he was underwater. His head felt fuzzy and he couldn't concentrate. It was difficult to move his arms, or even turn his head. Lizzie just kept looking at him. He knew he was supposed to say something, that he wasn't handling this right, but he didn't know what to do.
"Lizzie, maybe we should call your mom and tell her you are alright," Captain Stanley suggested.
"No! I'm not calling her. I came to find my dad and I did it on my own. I don't need her here," Lizzie jumped up from the table.
"Calm down, calm down now," Johnny said, holding out his hand and rising to his feet. "We're just trying to help, Lizzie. Just calm down, have a seat."
Roy got up and went to fridge. He took out the milk and then walked over the counter to get the sugar bowl. "Whoever made this coffee, made it super strong," Roy said, moving back toward the table. "I think I need some milk and sugar, what about you guys?"
The guys looked around, none of them liked anything in their coffee; what was Roy thinking? Mike had made the coffee and it was great. Mike caught the grimace on Lizzie's face as she took another tentative sip of the hot brew. He smiled. "Definitely. I must've been asleep when I made this pot; it's the worst." He held out his mug and Roy poured a drop of milk in it and added a tiny bit of sugar.
He turned to Johnny, who held out his mug. Roy repeated the process and then turned to Chet. "Chet?"
"Uh, yeah, yeah, thanks," Chet pushed his cup across the table. Roy poured in enough milk to make the coffee turn a light tan color. He added a heaping spoonful of sugar. "Lizzie, would you like me to make your coffee like your dad's?"
"Yes, please," Lizzie said, and slid her mug toward Roy. Roy added the milk and sugar and watched her take a sip and this time she smiled. Chet, however, nearly gagged as he tried to drink the sugary liquid now in his mug. But, he put a smile on his face when he looked at Lizzie.
"Lizzie, what grade are you in?" Roy asked, trying to make small talk.
"I'll be a freshman in High School this year," Lizzie said proudly.
"That's great," Chet said. "Do you like school?"
"I did," Lizzie said cryptically.
"How's your mom?" Chet asked.
"Do you really care?" Lizzie asked, the teenage attitude coming out in her tone.
"I do," Chet said. "I really cared about your mom."
"You sure have some way of showing it. Knocking her up and taking off," Lizzie said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Chet leaned back in his chair, his face going even whiter. "That isn't what happened. Is that what Mary said I did?"
"She never talks about you," Lizzie said, her tone dismissive. "The only reason she showed me your picture is because we were studying our ancestry in social studies. We were supposed to make a family tree and I was crying because I was the only kid in the class that didn't have anything on the Father side of the tree," Lizzie dropped her hands to her lap and looked down at them. "Why did you leave? Did you not want kids?"
"Uh, no, I mean, I want kids, but," Chet hemmed. "You really should talk to your mom."
"I'm talking to you," Lizzie lifted her eyebrow and met his eyes.
"I, uh, I'm just not, I mean. Look, you need to talk to your mom," Chet stood up and walked out of the kitchen.
Johnny and Marco both got up. "Excuse us," they said, following their shift mate out of the room.
"Lizzie, are you hungry? We haven't had breakfast yet," Captain Stanley said, trying to fill the awkward silence.
"I'm not hungry," Lizzie said, her eyes on the doorway, where Chet had just exited. "Maybe I shouldn't have come."
"Chet, what's wrong with you?" Johnny asked.
"What's wrong with me? I just found out I've got a daughter; can you believe this?"
"I can't believe a woman actually had sex with you," Johnny scoffed.
"Go play in traffic, Gage," Chet said, turning and slapping the engine.
"Chet, I can't believe you never told me you had a daughter," Marco said, surprised Chet kept that a secret from him.
Chet turned to look at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he heard Lieutenant Crockett call out a greeting as he entered the fire station. Johnny, Chet and Marco turned and headed back into the kitchen. Marco froze when he saw Marisol standing behind him.
"Hola, Marco," Marisol said, when she saw him.
Marco said nothing, the shock of suddenly seeing her robbing him of his voice.
"Ron, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon," Captain Stanley said, standing up.
"Can we talk in your office, Hank?"
"Sure," Captain Stanley saw the serious expression on his face and the three moved toward his office.
Captain Stanley closed the door. "What's up?"
"We can't locate Mary Ryan. There was a Mary Ryan living in Fontana, until about six weeks ago when she sold her house. Her daughter Elizabeth Ryan was enrolled in the local school. But, she isn't showing as attending the high school this coming year. Mary Ryan is no longer with her previous employer and no one has a forwarding address for her. She has no living relatives that we can find. I'm sure she'll turn up very shortly; but I'm probably not gonna find her in the next few hours. I brought Detective Sanchez to see if she can help us get information directly from Elizabeth."
"How does she seem to be?" Marisol asked.
Captain Stanley shrugged. "Typical teenager."
"Attitude," Lieutenant Crockett added, having two of his own.
"In spades," Captain Stanley smiled, thinking of his two daughters, both in their teens.
"I'll see what I can do," Marisol stood up. "If we can't find the mother today, I'll assume custody of her so she doesn't have to go to a detention center. There aren't any places for teenagers in situation like this that aren't typically used for criminal issues. You can make the station available as I will be with her until her mother can be found."
"Great, I appreciate that, Marisol. I mean, Detective Sanchez."
"Please, call me Marisol."
Marisol walked toward the kitchen, pausing just briefly to take a deep breath before she walked in and faced Marco again. Captain Stanley moved to the radio to make the station available.
"Elizabeth, I'm Detective Marisol Sanchez."
"It's Lizzie."
"Lizzie. It's nice to meet you."
"Why did you call the police?" Lizzie turned to look at Chet.
"I didn't," he said.
"Lizzie, we don't want your mom to be worried about you. We need to reach her to tell her that you're okay."
"She doesn't care. She only cares about herself. It's always about her. She's not gonna be worried about me," Lizzie pouted.
"I'm sure she's worried about you, Lizzie," Chet said.
"What do you know. You don't know anything about us," Lizzie said, her voice rising.
The klaxons sounded sending the guys toward the squad and engine as the station was called out for a multi-vehicle accident on the freeway. Chet looked at Lizzie for a second. "Go, I'll stay with her," Marisol said, quietly.
Chet looked at Marisol and then back at Lizzie. "I'll be back as soon as I can," Chet said, and then hurried to take his spot on the engine.
"Saved by the bell," Marco said, as Chet sat down across from him and seconds later Mike pulled the engine out of the bay.
"For you or me," Chet said moodily.
Marco's eyes narrowed and he said nothing else as the engine followed the squad toward the accident.
E
"Whatdya mean you don't know where she is?"
"I'm sorry, Mary. I had to run some errands this morning. When I got back Lizzie was gone. I thought maybe she just went to go see a friend and forgot to leave me a note. But, she's not back yet. I tried the neighbors and Carol next door saw her walking down the street with a bag."
Mary forced herself to take a deep breath and try to think. "I'll call some of her friends. She's been upset about the impending move. Thanks, Cathy," Mary hung up the phone and reached for the address book in her purse. She started calling Lizzie's friends one by one to see if she could track down her daughter.
"Okay, if you hear from her, please call me. Let me give you the number for the hotel where I'm staying," Mary rattled off the number, that she now knew from memory. She closed the book, fear gripping her heart. "Lizzie, where are you?"
Mary looked out her hotel window and watched as the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. It was going to be dark soon and she had no idea where her daughter was or where she'd be spending the night.
Mary reached over and picked up the phone one more time, she flipped the address book open to "p" and dialed the number for the Fontana police department. She explained to the officer that she was in Los Angeles completing plans to move here in a couple of weeks. She'd left her daughter with a neighbor, and while she was out running errands Lizzie had disappeared. Another neighbor thought she had seen her walking down the street; but no one had seen her in over 10 hours. Mary worked hard to sound calm, but her voice was shaking as the fear continued to grow with the dark shadows that spread into her hotel room.
Mary assured the officer that she could be back in Fontana in just over an hour; the hotel room had actually been a tactic to try to give her and Lizzie some time away from each other. Since she'd accepted the job in LA and told Lizzie they had to move, they'd been fighting constantly. Mary knew that Lizzie was just acting out because she was scared. She'd spent her whole life in Fontana, going to school with all the same kids. Now, she was gonna be moving to a big city, where they didn't know anyone. Lizzie would be starting high school as the new kid. She was upset, but running away was just not like her daughter.
Mary hung up the phone and quickly reached for her suitcase. She could be in Fontana in just over an hour, at least she'd be close when they found her.
E
Marisol moved across the room to refill her coffee. She glanced at the clock as she moved across the room, it was after 9:00 PM. The engine and station were out on another call. Lizzie had refused to leave the station, insisting she wanted to get to know her dad; but when Chet was here their conversations were either polite small talk, or brief outbursts of anger from Lizzie. Chet seemed completely lost and before this last run had just sat quietly, his head down and eyes fixed on the ground. Henry was the only one that seemed to be able to coax a smile from Lizzie, as the Bassett Hound had decided her lap was the best place to lay his head. She was absent-mindedly stroking his ears now.
Marisol had tried to talk to her a few times, in the beginning Lizzie had just resented the fact that she was a cop and just kept asking if she was arresting her. But, over the course of the evening, Lizzie had opened up and admitted that her mom had accepted a new job in Los Angeles and they were moving. She was angry about being moved away from the only home she'd ever known, and having to leave all of her friends.
Marisol turned and looked at the young girl; she knew she was just scared, but being fourteen was already a tough time and the fear was coming out in angry bursts. It was time to address how the evening was going to go. "Lizzie, it looks like you're not gonna help me find your mom. And we're not gonna be able to find her on our own tonight. If you aren't gonna help me, we need to figure out what we're gonna do with you tonight," Marisol turned and walked back over to her.
"You gonna arrest me?" Lizzie resorted to her earlier rhetoric.
"Lizzie, you don't want to stay the night in the detention center and they don't have any other options for teenagers on the street. Tell me how to find your mom."
"I told you, she doesn't care about me."
"And I've told you multiple times, I don't buy that for a second. You're wearing nice clothes, you have manners, you obviously know how to take care of yourself; that doesn't reflect a girl who's unloved."
"She'll be mad," Lizzie said, looking down at Henry.
"Yeah, probably," Marisol agreed, sitting down next to Lizzie. "But, she'll get over it. I can only imagine what she's feeling right now, not knowing where you are. It's not fair to keep putting her through this."
Lizzie sat stroking Henry's ears and not saying anything.
"Lizzie, tell me how I can reach your mom," Marisol urged.
"She's staying at a hotel here in LA. I have the phone number in my bag," Lizzie said.
Marisol got up and moved across the room to pick up Lizzie's bag; but she didn't go through it, instead she handed it to Lizzie.
Lizzie reached in and pulled out the number. She looked at it briefly and handed it to Marisol. Marisol moved to the phone and quickly dialed the number. She waited for the person on the other end to give their spiel and then requested to speak with Mary Ryan. Marisol stood quietly for a few seconds and then hung up the phone.
"Your mother checked out an hour ago; she said there'd been a family emergency. I'm gonna call the Fontana PD and see if she's been in contact with them," Marisol dialed the number to information and requested the number for the Fontana police department. She quickly grabbed a nearby pencil and scribbled down the number. She hung up the phone and dialed the number she'd just been given.
"Hi, this is Detective Marisol Sanchez, with the Los Angeles Police Department. I'm trying to find out if you've received a missing person report for Elizabeth Ryan," Marisol said, to the officer that answered the phone. "Yes, I'll hold."
"Detective, your calling about Elizabeth Ryan?" The Detective who'd been transferred the call asked, skipping the pleasantries.
"Yes, yes I am. I actually am with Elizabeth Ryan and am trying to reach Mary Ryan; but we've been unable to locate her," Marisol explained. She listened for several minutes while the detective explained they'd received a missing person report and that Mary Ryan was driving back to Fontana from Los Angeles and they were expecting her to arrive at their station any minute.
Marisol dropped her head and looked over at Lizzie. If she'd just told her the mom's number an hour ago they could've saved this poor woman a lot of driving. Marisol gave the officer her number and asked that Mary call her when she arrived.
"Lizzie, your mom should be at the police department in Fontana in just a few minutes," Marisol said, turning to look at the teenager.
"She's gonna be so mad," Lizzie said.
"If you think you'd be comfortable, why don't I ask your mom if you can stay the evening with me? She can get a good night's sleep and drive down in the morning."
"You'd really do that for me?" Lizzie was surprised at Marisol's statement.
"My family moved when I was just a little younger than you," Marisol explained. "It was a really tough time in my life; so I know some of what you're goin' through."
"I'm gonna be the new girl in school," Lizzie whispered.
"I don't know how schools are in Fontana, but here, all the kids going into high school move to a new school, so yes, they'll know some people, but the other kids will just assume you're from the other junior high school. You'll make plenty of friends in no time."
"You don't know that," Lizzie said sullenly.
"You're right, I can't predict the future, but," Marisol looked up as she heard the engine begin to back into the bay. "The guys are back."
Lizzie and Marisol walked into the bay to see the guys step off the engine; the squad wasn't back yet. They were covered in soot and looked worn out.
"Are you okay?" Lizzie's voice held a tinge of fear as she looked at Chet.
"Fine," Chet said, his voice weary.
Marisol saw the fear in Lizzie's eyes. "Hey, guys, why don't you get cleaned up and Lizzie and I'll make some popcorn."
"That sounds great," Mike said.
Marco, Chet and Mike moved toward the locker room. "Lizzie, why don't you head into the kitchen and I'll be right there."
Marisol pulled Captain Stanley aside and explained that she'd been in contact with the Fontana police department and was expecting a call back from Mary Ryan any minute. "I really don't want to have that conversation in front of Lizzie," Marisol explained.
"I'll pick the call up in my office. Then I can come in and help Lizzie with the popcorn while you talk to Mary," Captain Stanley was just finishing his statement when the phone rang. "Or you can just follow me now."
Captain Stanley picked up his phone. "Los Angeles County Fire Department, Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking."
"Yes, this is Mary Ryan. I was given this number to call about my daughter Elizabeth Ryan; is she okay?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Your daughter is fine. I'm going to put you on the phone with Detective Marisol Sanchez, she'll explain everything to you." Captain Stanley handed Marisol the phone and closed his office door on the way to the kitchen.
"Hello," Marisol said, watching Captain Stanley close the door.
"This is Mary Ryan, is my daughter in some kind of trouble Detective Sanchez?"
"No, she's not and please, call me Marisol."
"Marisol, what's going on? What's my daughter doing in Los Angeles? Why didn't she call me?" Mary asked questions in rapid succession. She was completely confused as to why her daughter was at a fire station with a police officer.
"Lizzie saw an article in the newspaper yesterday about the firemen rescuing a family from a burning building. There isn't any easy way to say this, Lizzie thought the fireman in the picture with the article was her father. Fireman Chet Kelly."
Marisol heard a gasp on the other end of the phone. "So she came out to LA to find him?" Mary asked.
"Apparently, she caught a bus in Fontana and found the station to meet him. I know you just drove to Fontana from Los Angeles and I'm sure the information I've just given you is quite a shock. If you feel comfortable, I can let Lizzie stay with me tonight. You can drive down in the morning and meet us at the fire station."
Mary was quiet on the other end of the phone trying to absorb everything she'd just been told. Lizzie had tracked down Chet. It had never crossed her mind that Lizzie might have left trying to find her birth father. Mary briefly wondered what Chet had said. He must be so mad after what she'd done. Had he told Lizzie?
"Ms. Ryan?"
"Oh, sorry, please call me Mary. If you're sure it's not too much trouble, I'd be comfortable with Lizzie staying with you and I think you might be right about my needing some time to process. If I met you at the station in the morning, would I be seeing, I mean, would…," Mary let her sentence fade out.
"Fireman Kelly is on right now, shift change is at 8:00 AM, but I'm sure he'd honor whatever your wishes are," Marisol said, knowing what she was trying to say.
"I doubt that," Mary said, without thinking.
Marisol said nothing, knowing when it was best to just let something go.
"I'll be down first thing in the morning. Thank you for taking care of my daughter. May I talk to her for a few minutes. I'd like to be the one to tell her I'm going to let her stay the night with you and get her in the morning," Mary asked.
"Sure, I'll go get her," Marisol laid the phone on the desk and walked into the kitchen. "Lizzie, your mom is on the phone."
Marisol walked Lizzie to the office, but stepped into the bay closing the door to give Lizzie a few minutes of privacy.
"I was surprised to see you today," Marco said.
Marisol jumped slightly at his voice. She looked around and saw Marco leaning against the engine.
"They thought I might be of some help with Lizzie," Marisol explained. She wanted to walk closer to him, but she wasn't sure if she should.
Marco pushed off the engine and moved closer to her. "You look good, Marisol. A lot less stressed than the last time I saw you."
"I quit the gang division," Marisol explained. "I'm training to be a negotiator."
"Congratulations, Marisol. I hope you'll be happy."
"Me too," Marisol said, attempting a faint smile. "I really am sorry, Marco."
Marco went to speak, but the klaxons sounded calling the engine out. Marisol stood back as the guys loaded into the engine and Mike sounded the horn and he pulled out toward the street.
Lizzie joined Marisol as the engine pulled onto the street. "Do you think they'll be okay?" Lizzie asked, watching the engine as it moved down the block.
"They're careful and they watch each other's back," was all Marisol said; knowing their jobs were dangerous and unwilling to minimize the risks she knew existed.