Kitabı oku: «True Blue K-9 Unit Christmas»

ONE

Paramedic Pete Stallings peered through the fat snowflakes in an attempt to find the spot along the Jackie Robinson Parkway where an injured man waited. The bright Christmas lights hanging from the streetlamps were almost obliterated by the falling snow.

There!

He yanked the wheel to pull over to the side of the road behind the squad car and threw the gearshift into Park.

“Let’s go.” Ignoring the wet snow melting on the nape of his neck he hurried to the back of the rig. It was disconcerting to have the crime scene so close to his home in the Forest Hills neighborhood of Queens, but he thrust the thought aside.

His partner, Kim Turner, was waiting when he opened the side-by-side doors. Together, they carried the gurney over the snowbank to where the uniformed officer was waving them down. As they grew closer, Pete could see the body of a man lying in bloodstained snow with a bleeding abdominal wound covered by a towel placed by the cop on the scene.

“I need dressings, lots of them,” Pete told Kim. He was worried that an artery had been nicked and if they didn’t stop the bleeding soon, their patient would die.

Kim opened their pack and handed over large squares of gauze. The man’s eyes were open, and Pete could tell he was trying to talk.

“Take it easy.” Pete tried to sound reassuring. “You’ll be fine.”

“Danger—keep her safe...” Their patient’s voice was so faint, Pete could barely hear him.

“Who?” Pete couldn’t tell if the guy was delirious or not. “Keep who safe?”

The man opened his mouth to answer, but then his mouth went slack and he closed his eyes without uttering another word.

A chill snaked down Pete’s back and he resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder into the snowy field beyond. Was the assailant nearby? It was only three in the afternoon, but with the heavy clouds overhead it felt much later. The cops should have cleared the area, but he knew from experience anything was possible. He put pressure on the bleeding wound and leaned down to speak close to the man’s ear. “Who? Keep who safe?”

Nothing. Their patient was unconscious. From the corner of his eye, he took note that Kim had started an IV. Fluids alone wouldn’t be enough. He quickly checked for a pulse. It was faint and slow, a bad sign. Normally hypothermia helped stop bleeding but it could also be dangerous if the patient’s temperature dropped too low.

“We’re losing him,” he warned.

“Logan! What happened? Who hurt him?” A female voice pleaded from behind him, but Pete didn’t bother to look. He continued leaning on the wound while trying to help place the EKG leads on the guy’s chest.

“We need to get him into the rig,” Kim said as she squeezed the bag of fluids in an effort to raise the guy’s blood pressure. “He’s not going to make it if we don’t get him to the hospital.”

“I know.” Pete lifted the pressure from the wound in order to help lift him onto the gurney, but instantly the EKG flatlined. He initiated CPR, knowing it was likely a fruitless effort. Their patient had already lost too much blood. Fluids weren’t going to be enough and calling for a chopper wasn’t an option.

Pete kept doing CPR, working up a sweat despite the chilly December afternoon. This guy was going to die less than a week before Christmas and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it.

“Hold CPR long enough to get him on the gurney,” Kim directed.

He didn’t want to stop, but knew they had to move. He paused long enough to lift their patient onto the gurney, then continued chest compressions. Kim secured the straps around the guy’s body then gave him two breaths of oxygen through a face mask. Pete stopped CPR again so they could wheel him over the slick, snow-covered terrain to the rig.

“Wait! I’m a cop! I want to go with him.” The female voice he’d heard earlier was louder now, but he continued to ignore her. The minute he had the patient stowed in the back of the rig, Pete jumped in beside him.

“I’ll do CPR while you drive,” he told Kim. CPR was hard work; he figured it made more sense for him to continue with performing chest compressions since he had fifty pounds on Kim and several inches.

The female cop with short, chin-length dark hair jumped into the back of the rig. A beautiful black-and-gold German shepherd joined her. “I know CPR. I can help,” she said.

There wasn’t time to argue, especially since he knew cops were trained in basic first aid. Pete resumed doing compressions while the female cop provided oxygen through a face mask.

“Come on, Logan. Hang on,” she murmured.

Pete continued to count compressions out loud for her benefit. They reached the hospital quickly, and a team of doctors and nurses came out to meet them. They all rushed into the trauma bay, but less than five minutes later, it was over.

The doc on duty pronounced their patient dead.

Pete was sad and frustrated as he washed up, getting rid of the worst of the bloodstains before joining his partner. Since the pretty cop had called their patient by name, he figured they knew each other, but wasn’t sure what their relationship was. When he approached Kim, the female cop was there with wide, sad eyes.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He knew the words were inadequate. After he’d lost his wife seven months ago, people had said the same thing and it hadn’t made him feel any better.

“Thanks. Logan is my ex-husband.” The cop’s blue eyes shimmered with tears. “I’m not sure how I’m going to tell our daughter he’s gone.”

In that moment he placed her, belatedly recognizing her from the day-care center where his son, Mikey, went to a pre-K program. “Faith Johnson,” he said. “From the day-care center. You’re Jane’s mom.”

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, managing a weak smile. “Yes. And I should have recognized you as Mikey’s dad. Jane talks about Mikey all the time.”

“Same here.” Suddenly, the last words Logan had spoken took on a new meaning.

Keep her safe.

Pete wondered if Logan had been talking about his ex-wife. Had Logan been involved in something illegal? Drugs? Guns? Something that now put his ex-wife at risk?

“Faith, can I speak to you privately for a moment?” Pete glanced pointedly at Kim who sighed.

“I’ll grab a coffee,” she muttered.

The moment Kim was out of earshot, Pete drew Faith closer. “Listen, when we first arrived at the scene, your ex-husband tried to tell us what happened.”

All hint of tears vanished as Faith instantly turned cop. “What did he say?”

“Just the words danger and keep her safe.” He hesitated, then added, “I think he was talking about you, Faith. About the fact that whoever hurt him might be after you next.”

Faith pulled a notebook out of one of the many pockets of her uniform. “Tell me his exact words.”

Pete thought back to the scene at the edge of the parkway. The sounds of cars passing by had made it difficult to hear. “Danger—keep her safe,” he repeated.

“He didn’t mention a name?” Faith asked.

He shook his head. “I asked, but that’s when he lost consciousness.”

Faith stared at him for a long moment. “Okay, listen, Pete, you’ll need to tell the officers investigating the crime about what you heard. They need to know exactly what Logan said.”

“I know. But what about you?” Faith might be a cop, but he didn’t like the thought of her being in danger. “Do you have any idea why this happened to your ex-husband?”

“No clue,” Faith admitted ruefully. “I haven’t spoken to him recently. He wasn’t supposed to take Jane until tomorrow.”

He understood co-custody rules and nodded. “Maybe take a few days off. At least until the detectives finish their initial investigation.”

Faith glanced down and put her hand on the head of the tall tan-and-black German shepherd at her side. “I’ll be okay. My K-9 partner, Ricci, always has my back.”

Pete wanted to press the issue, but an older cop wearing a badly fitting suit beneath a parka approached them at the same time Kim returned with her coffee. “I’m Detective Zimmerman. I need to speak to each of you, alone.”

Pete glanced at Faith, who nodded. “You may want to start with the paramedics,” Faith said. “They need to get back.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Kim protested.

“But I did,” Pete added.

“Let’s talk somewhere private.” Zimmerman gestured to a small room off to the side.

Pete followed the detective, wondering what in the world he’d stumbled into.

Faith tore her gaze away from the handsome paramedic, dragging her attention to the issue at hand. Logan was gone. Someone had stabbed him and left him lying on the side of the road.

Why? And who exactly was in danger? Pete assumed Logan was talking about Faith, but she knew that her ex-husband had a fiancée, Claire. The woman he’d cheated on her with. The woman he’d chosen over her and their daughter.

Old news. She’d gotten over him and had grown stronger in her faith as a result.

She knew it was more likely Claire who was in danger. Maybe Claire had dragged Logan into something sketchy. Regardless, Logan was gone, leaving her little girl without a father. Faith knew she wouldn’t be able to rest until his killer was brought to justice. And she’d do anything to protect Jane from harm.

“Officer Johnson?” Zimmerman’s voice pulled her from her reverie. He’d finished with Pete and Kim, now it was her turn. “Are you willing to talk to me?”

It occurred to her that she could easily be a suspect. The aggrieved and divorced wife, seeking revenge. The only good news was that she’d been on duty when she heard the call over the radio about a stabbing victim named Logan Johnson. They’d found his wallet with his driver’s license but no cash. She’d come to the parkway directly from the NYC K-9 Command Unit headquarters.

“Of course. I have nothing to hide.” Faith glanced over to where Pete and his female counterpart stood waiting in the hallway. She tried to flash a reassuring smile.

The interview with Zimmerman was brief. Yes, she and Logan had been divorced for over a year. Yes, they shared custody of their four-year-old daughter, Jane. No, she didn’t stab him. She’d been at work when she’d received the call about her ex-husband’s injury. Yes, she’d come to the scene of the crime and had helped perform CPR.

It was her alibi that got her off the hook.

“I’d like my K-9 unit to help with the investigation,” she said when the detective finished.

“That’s not necessary,” Detective Zimmerman said. “This is my jurisdiction. I’ll handle it from here.”

The dismissive tone of his voice put her teeth on edge. She reined in her temper, glanced down at her K-9 partner and came up with a better plan. “Fine. But I hope you’ll give me updates on your progress.”

“Of course,” he said blithely.

She didn’t believe him, but she wasn’t going to sit back while this guy handled the case, either. When she was out of earshot from the detective, she called Noah Jameson, Chief of the K-9 Command Unit.

“Chief Jameson’s office.”

“This is Faith Johnson, I need to speak with Noah about a case I’d like some help with.”

“Just a moment please.” There was a pause, then Noah’s deep voice could be heard. “Faith? What’s going on?”

She swallowed nervously. She was the newest member of the K-9 unit and knew she might be stepping out of bounds with her request. “My ex-husband, Logan Johnson, was stabbed today and died from his wounds. The NYPD detective assigned to the case is Zimmerman, and he’s refused to include me in his investigation. I’m wondering if there’s a way to get cooperation between him and our K-9 unit so we can work the case together.”

“As this is your ex-husband, you can’t be assigned to the case,” Chief Jameson pointed out.

“Maybe Brianne could take it?” She quickly named her closest friend in the unit.

There was a slight pause, before the chief responded. “Okay, I’ll check her caseload.”

She sighed with relief. “Thank you, sir.” She ended the call, then quickly returned to the ambulance bay. She was surprised to find that Pete and Kim hadn’t left, apparently waiting for her. Pete smiled. “Hey, need a ride back to your car?”

“That would be great.” Faith appreciated that they’d waited. It would have been a long walk back through the snow to get her vehicle. Something she should have considered before jumping into the back of the ambulance with Ricci. But her focus had been on doing everything possible to save Logan’s life.

“I’ll drive,” Kim offered. “We’ll drop you before heading back. Our shift is almost over anyway.”

Faith walked behind Pete to the ambulance. He opened the doors for her. Ricci gracefully jumped inside first and she followed. When Pete joined them, the quarters seemed more cramped than they had on the way over.

“Friend, Ricci.” Faith put her hand on Pete’s arm. “Friend.”

Ricci sniffed at Pete for several long moments. Ricci was trained in search and rescue, and she trusted her partner’s instincts more than her own.

“He’s beautiful,” Pete said. “Mikey wants a dog in the worst way, but I’m not sure I can handle being a single father to a four-year-old and a puppy at the same time.”

She smiled ruefully. “I hear you. Ricci is well trained, and I still have trouble balancing his needs with Jane’s.”

Pete gazed into her eyes for a long moment until the ambulance took a turn, knocking them off balance. Faith told herself to get a grip and turned her attention to the crime scene they were approaching. Brianne would understand her desire to get a jump on the search for evidence.

She did a mental inventory of what she had in her K-9 SUV. Anything belonging to Logan?

No, but Jane’s spare backpack was in there. The one that they handed off between visits. Faith hadn’t touched it since she’d picked up Jane from Logan’s place the previous weekend.

It might work as a scent source for Ricci.

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that it took a moment to realize the ambulance had stopped near her SUV. Pete opened the back doors, then jumped down and offered her a hand.

She placed her gloved hand in his, feeling silly since she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Ricci followed.

“Thanks.” Faith cleared her throat. “Guess I’ll see you around the day care.”

“Yeah.” Pete didn’t immediately leave, though. Instead he walked her to the SUV.

She opened the back passenger door, pulled out Jane’s pink backpack and held it out for Ricci. “Find, Ricci.”

“What are you doing?” Pete looked perplexed yet interested. “You’re not going to disturb the crime scene, are you?”

“No, of course not.” The uniforms who’d been called to investigate the report of an injured man on the parkway had placed crime tape around the area. “But I can search beyond it.”

“I guess.” Pete’s expression was doubtful.

“I don’t have to pick up Jane from day care until five, which gives me some time to investigate.”

Pete nodded. He didn’t seem anxious to get back to the ambulance, even when Kim gave the horn an impatient tap.

“Thanks for the ride.” Faith tucked the backpack inside her SUV, then turned to Ricci, who was sniffing around the vehicle. He alerted right near the spot where the crime scene was, then veered along the side of the road, heading east.

Excitement surged and she praised her partner for a job well done. This must be the way Logan had come before he’d been stabbed. Had the assailant been with him, or had he gone alone? And why had her ex-husband been out here anyway? There was no abandoned vehicle nearby, forcing her to assume someone had driven Logan here, then stabbed him, before taking off.

She pulled the flashlight off her utility belt and crouched down to examine the area, searching for blood.

Nothing. Which meant Logan must have walked this way prior to being stabbed.

Ricci moved forward. She abruptly stood to follow just as the sharp echo of gunfire rang out.

“Ricci!” Faith dived toward her K-9 partner, anxious to prevent him from being injured, all too conscious of the fact that her dark uniform would be glaringly obvious against the backdrop of white snow.