Emergency Response Read online

  “I’m going to take your gun now, Darcie,” he said to keep from startling her. He gently took the weapon, but she didn’t move. He clicked on the safety and shoved the gun into his belt. Still no reaction.

  She was in shock. Not surprising after her ordeal.

  He gently laid a hand on her arm to encourage her to look at him. “How are you doing?”

  She didn’t bat an eye. “I’m okay.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re in shock and need medical care.”

  She shifted to face him. “I’m the EMT here. I know what I need and I’ll be fine.” She fired him a testy look and started to rise.

  Good. At least he’d gotten her to react, but he wasn’t letting her get up.

  “Hold on.” He tightened his grip on her arm. “They’re still chasing down the suspect. We’ll wait here until he’s apprehended.”

  Her eyes flew open, fear lurking in their depths. “Surely he won’t come back here.”

  “With officers in pursuit, it’s not likely, but you never know. He could double back. Could even try to barricade himself in one of these houses.”

  “Isabel,” Darcie cried out and shook off his hand. “She could be in danger. I have to protect her. This guy, I think he’s one of those gang members terrorizing the neighborhood. There might be others.”

  As much as Noah hated to admit it, Darcie’s assessment was spot-on. In neighborhoods like this, gang members were like ants. Where there was one there were a bunch more. It meant Isabel and her grandmother, Pilar, were constantly in danger living here. In fact, he and Darcie had scheduled a meeting with Pilar today to discuss finding a safer place for the two of them to live. That would now have to wait until the immediate danger had passed.

  Darcie started to rise. “I have to check on Isabel.”

  Noah rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not a good idea to leave yet.”

  Darcie shrugged free. “Good idea or not, Isabel’s in a wheelchair and I need to make sure she’s protected.”

  His resolve wavered. Always did around Darcie. She had a heart the size of Texas—one of the things he admired about her—and she mothered everyone in her life. Though that had more to do with losing her child in a car accident a little over six years ago than anything. She would risk her own life in a heartbeat to make sure others were safe. He respected her for that, too. Along with her fierce personality that let no one get in her way. Like right now. If he didn’t escort her to Isabel’s house, Darcie would walk over there on her own.

  He had no choice. She was staying under his protection until her attacker was apprehended. There was no question about that. None.

  “Let me check things out first and then I’ll take you to the house.” He stood, keeping an eye on her for a moment to make sure she remained seated, and then made a careful survey of the area.

  His radio squawked as one of the officers in pursuit reported his location about a mile north of their position and requested a lockdown of the nearby elementary school.

  Now that Noah knew Darcie was okay, he wanted to get in on the action. He was a cop at heart. Had always wanted to be one, always would be one. And right now, he wanted to join his fellow officers in pursuit of a creep who’d terrified Darcie. To hunt him down, slap cuffs on him and toss him in the back of his car. Glare at him, too, and offer a few choice words for good measure. But at this moment, Darcie needed him more. Even if she wouldn’t admit it.

  He turned back to her and swallowed his emotions. “We’re clear for now, but stay close to me. We’ll go straight to the house and inside. Got it?”

  A wooden nod was her only reply.

  “Remember—” he paused for emphasis and offered his hand to help her up “—this situation is volatile and could change at any moment. Your life is still in danger and you need to follow my directions, not only for your safety but for Isabel’s and Pilar’s welfare, too.”

  Another stiff nod as she slid icy cold fingers into his hand. He tugged her to her feet and drew her close.

  She winced and jerked free.

  “You okay?” he asked, wondering if he’d hurt her, or if she just didn’t want him to touch her.

  She held up her palm. “I scraped my hands and knees when I fell.”

  Hot anger flared at the raw skin, but he swallowed it down as he’d done on the job countless times. “I know you can treat the abrasions yourself, but you could have other injuries that shock or adrenaline are masking. It’s best to get you checked out by a medic.”

  She frowned. “Isabel and Pilar are far more important right now than spending time on a scrape.”

  She was right, but he’d still arrange for the medic. He urged her forward with an arm around her back. Her body trembled, sending his thoughts to the man dressed in blue. The thug who’d terrorized her. Her fear as she crouched in the rain waiting for him to kill her.

  Noah’s anger fired hotter. Once they found the shooter, Noah would make sure the creep paid for hurting her. “Did you recognize the man who attacked you?”

  “No,” she whispered. “But I can describe him.”

  “Great. If we aren’t able to apprehend him today, we can get a sketch made.”

  She shot him a pained look. “Not apprehend him?”

  “Hopefully that won’t happen. Our officers are doing everything they can to catch him.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you have no idea why he attacked you?”

  She shook her head hard, sending her ponytail softly whispering over his neck. “I figure it was just another random attack. You know. Like last week when that woman was mugged down the street.”

  When she was beaten within an inch of her life. He kept the last bit to himself so he didn’t raise Darcie’s apprehension. That and to stop his mind from wandering to the dire consequences if he hadn’t been able to get a uniform here so quickly.

  They started forward and he drew his weapon again for good measure. He pulled her closer. At five-nine—more like five-eleven today, in her heeled boots—she was only a few inches shorter than him. Her stride fell nicely into step with his and he caught a whiff of her fruity, tropical perfume. She’d worn the same scent since he’d first met her six years ago, when she’d joined the county’s First Response Squad.

  As a detective for the Portland Police Bureau, Noah didn’t interact with the squad often, but he’d worked with them enough that he’d gotten to know everyone on the team.

  Six members strong, they were all sworn deputies except Darcie. They performed regular law enforcement duties most of the time, but when they were needed in special crisis situations, they came together as a team. One specialized in bombs, another was a sniper, two of them were hostage negotiators and the last was the team leader. Darcie rounded out the team to provide medical support.

  “Suspect’s on the move. Going over the fence.” The officer’s voice came over Noah’s radio, startling Darcie.

  Noah hugged her tighter and sped up. In a daze, she trudged alongside him. He felt like he was dragging her—maybe causing her pain. He hated the thought, but if that’s what it took to get her safely inside, he’d do so.

  They started up the walkway to the dilapidated bungalow Pilar rented from a slumlord who didn’t care much about maintaining his property. Pilar kept it clean and tidy, but there was only so much she could do when the landlord never made necessary repairs. To make things worse, the cracking paint and crumbling cement walkways were decorated with graffiti and broken glass. Nearby neighborhoods were seeing rebirth, but the revitalization hadn’t reached this street. The area was home to gang activities, which meant drugs and violence.

  Darcie suddenly jerked back and pointed at the house. “Look. Bullet holes.”

  Noah spotted three punctures in the wall near the living room window. Likely stray bullets from the
shooter’s attack. His adrenaline fired higher. He moved Darcie behind his back and searched the area again.

  The door suddenly swung open and he spun, gun pointed. Pilar’s dark eyes, below scraped-back hair, widened and she took a step back.

  Noah huffed out a relieved breath and hurried Darcie up the walkway. Pilar stood waiting, a towel wrapped around her arm. Blood seeped through the worn yellow fabric.

  “Your arm.” Darcie shot out from under his protection. “What happened?”

  “A bullet...it came through the wall.”

  “Isabel?” Darcie’s voice was deadly calm, but her eyes were wild with terror.

  “She is fine. Hiding under her bed.”

  Darcie sighed out a breath and peered at Pilar. “Let me take a look at your arm.”

  Pilar lifted her hand and grimaced. “The bleeding has stopped.”

  “I still need—”

  “Let’s take this inside,” Noah interrupted.

  “But the sirens...the gunshots stopped after the police cars arrived. Aren’t we safe now?” Pilar’s hand shook as she supported her injured arm and backed inside. “What is going on? Is it another gang shooting?”

  “I don’t know the full details, but while the officers have everything under control, it’s still safer to stay inside.” Noah smiled again, putting on the officer persona he used to keep people calm in challenging situations. “Let’s have Darcie check out your arm, and then we’ll work on getting more details.”

  Pilar smiled, but it was forced. “You’re both wet and must be freezing. I’ll get some towels before you catch your death.”

  “Seriously, Pilar? You’ve been shot,” Darcie reprimanded. “You’ll sit down and let me tend to the wound.” Darcie gently prodded Pilar toward a worn armchair in the corner.

  Noah took one last look outside, running his gaze up and down the road. Satisfied the women were safe for now, he closed and bolted the door. Double-checked it and glanced out the window for added measure. By the time he crossed the room, Darcie had settled Pilar in the chair. Darcie looked up at Noah, her focus clear once again. She’d shifted into rescuer mode, and with Pilar as a patient, Darcie could turn her focus outward. Maybe overcome her own shock.

  “Can you check on Isabel?” she asked.

  He really didn’t want to leave the front of the house, but someone had to retrieve the little girl. He nodded, then headed for the bedroom and turned down the volume on his radio to keep from worrying the six-year-old.

  Her room, the size of a walk-in closet, held a twin bed with a woven blanket and a painted nightstand topped with a multicolored lamp. The small wheelchair Darcie had secured for Isabel after Isabel had been injured on a callout sat empty by the bed.

  He hadn’t been at the incident but he’d heard a report that Isabel was living in deplorable conditions with her mother, Mayte. A social worker had come to the apartment to remove Isabel, but Mayte, high on drugs, had refused to hand over her daughter. A standoff occurred and the FRS responded. There was some concern about Isabel’s health, so Darcie went in with Archer, one of their negotiators. His job had been to talk Mayte down, while Darcie’s had been to make sure Isabel was okay. But Mayte clutched Isabel and backed onto an unsafe deck. The railing gave way and Mayte plunged two stories.

  Darcie darted forward in time to catch hold of Isabel’s calf and keep her from falling, but the wrenching motion injured Isabel’s knee badly enough to require surgery. Mayte suffered a serious concussion. The good news was that the head injury kept her in the hospital long enough to go into drug withdrawal and to agree to rehab.

  Now Isabel was once again in another traumatizing situation. The poor kid. She’d seen so much at her tender age. Way too much.

  “Isabel, it’s Noah,” he announced to keep from scaring her even more as he stepped into the room. “It’s safe to come out now. I’m going to help you into your chair.”

  He knelt by the bed and peeked underneath. Despite her living conditions or her recent accident, Isabel always had a big smile, and she flashed white teeth with a wide gap in the top.

  “Hi, princess,” Noah said.

  “Abuelita put me here.” Her smile faltered. “I was worried.”

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s okay.” He reached under the bed and maneuvered her free, being careful not to bang her injured leg. He curled her into his arms and gave her a hug. She looked up at him, eyes wide.

  “Abuelita got hurt.”

  “I know,” he said, trying to play it down. “Darcie’s taking good care of her.”

  “I thought maybe—” She shook her head and frowned. “You and Darcie weren’t coming. Or you got hurt. Like that lady last week.”

  “No need to worry about that, princess. We’re all just fine. And your grandmother will be fine, too.” The vehemence in Noah’s voice made her smile disappear. He didn’t mean to sound so intense, but come on. No child should have their life invaded by man’s brutality. “Let’s go see Darcie, okay?”

  “Yes, please.” Isabel’s face lit up and Noah’s heart melted. There was something about this urchin that made him happy. If she survived all this trauma and still smiled, he should be able to do the same thing in his own life.

  He settled her into the wheelchair and pushed her to the living room. Darcie ran her gaze over Isabel with a trained medical professional’s eyes.

  “Noah said you were here, but you really are,” Isabel said, and smiled.

  “Hold tight to the towel,” Darcie ordered Pilar, then crossed over to Isabel.

  Darcie squatted by the chair, and Noah saw her wince before she hid it. Her injuries bothered her more than she let on. She offered Isabel a beaming smile that utterly captivated Noah. In a situation that wasn’t as dire as this one, he would...would what?

  Do nothing. Exactly what he needed to do. What he’d done for years.

  On the day he’d met Darcie, one look at her hit him like a battering ram, but he’d done nothing about it—would do nothing about it, other than swallowing down his feelings and acting professionally whenever he ran in to her.

  Her smile widened even more and Noah had to step back to get a grip.

  Concentrate, man. Concentrate. She’s just a victim and this is just another callout. Do your job.

  “Don’t you know by now that nothing would keep me away from seeing you?” Darcie asked Isabel.

  She flung tiny arms around Darcie’s neck. The child clung to Darcie as if she was her mother. With Mayte in rehab since her accident, Isabel had transferred her need for motherly love to Darcie. He wasn’t surprised that Darcie hadn’t been able to resist loving Isabel. Still, if Darcie realized how invested she’d become in Isabel’s well-being, Darcie would shut down as she had since she lost her daughter. She avoided getting too close to anyone to avoid getting hurt.

  Noah got that. He’d lost a son, too. Not to death, but to distance. He’d bailed on his pregnant girlfriend Ashley in college. Stupid move. But he was young and could barely get to class on time. How could he be responsible for a son?

  He regretted it now. Every day. So he totally understood the wall Darcie put up to keep from caring and getting hurt again.

  The hug ended and Darcie stood up.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked her and tipped his head at the far side of the room.

  “Do you need me to call an ambulance for Pilar or have you already done so?” he asked when he couldn’t be overheard.

  “I have. They’re on the way.”

  “Good. So will you be okay if I head outside to check on the action?”

  A pained smile crossed her face, but she nodded anyway.

  “Don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll stay within view of the house. If you need me you can call out.”

  She gave just the barest hint of a nod
as she grabbed his hand. Her still cold fingers squeezed weakly. “Thank you, Noah. For being here for us.”

  “It’s what I do,” he said and ignored how his heart warmed at her gratitude. “Lock the door behind me and stay away from the windows.”

  “You are leaving us?” Pilar cried out.

  “It’s okay,” Darcie replied. “He’ll be right outside and the danger has passed.”

  Noah nodded his agreement. Darcie’s comment was technically true. The danger had passed. For now.

  Only for now.

  Darcie had gotten a good look at the creep who’d attacked her and could identify him. The man had to realize that as well. He had no qualms about attacking a woman, so if he evaded the officers today, he’d be more than happy to come after her again.

  And the next time the creep got to her, Noah feared he’d succeed in silencing her for good.

  TWO

  Darcie couldn’t quit shaking. Not from the chill in Pilar’s hospital room, but from the memory of the attack. It would be a long time before she could forget about the crushing arm that had come around her neck. The bullets whizzing past. Even if she could forget, her neck throbbed and her knees and hands stung from the abrasions. Despite Noah’s continued insistence that she needed medical attention, she’d tended to her own injuries while Pilar was in surgery for a repair to her shattered ulna.

  Darcie tugged the collar on her shirt higher to hide the purpling marks from the attack. She would hate for the ugly bruises to scare Isabel or Pilar even more. Pilar was already staring at Darcie, her eyebrows in bushy arcs. She made the sign of the cross on her chest while mumbling something in Spanish. Darcie didn’t speak Spanish, but she knew the sweet woman was praying for her.

  That wasn’t new. Pilar always offered up prayers for Darcie. It seemed odd that Pilar—a woman who had very little in life and had so many needs of her own to pray for—felt compelled to pray for her. It made Darcie uncomfortable to have someone treading on the edges of her personal life.