Emergency Reunion Page 6

  Dan’s gaze flashed to the dog that animal control was still struggling to subdue. “Help me get her to the ambulance.”

  She groaned and pushed onto her hands and knees. “I can get up.” She staggered to her feet, her pallor grayer than the weathered stucco.

  Cole scooped her into his arms—how perfectly she fit—and hurried toward the ambulance. “Grab the door,” he shouted at Dan as her lips pinched into a white line. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Hang on.” He slowed a fraction to keep from jostling her and shot a glance over his shoulder to ensure the dog hadn’t veered back in their direction.

  The animal-control officers had it cornered, but the dog’s ears suddenly perked.

  Cole curled his arms to bring Sherri snug against his chest and ran the last five yards to the back of the ambulance, ignoring the pounding pain that stormed into his head at the exertion. Two steps ahead of him, Dan shoved the recovered gurney aboard then grabbed Cole by the top of his sleeve and hauled them up into the ambulance a second before the dog lunged their way.

  “Lay her on the gurney,” Dan ordered, but Cole couldn’t make his arms cooperate.

  She was trembling viciously against his chest and the thought of letting go seemed wrong on too many levels. What if this attack was deliberate? Could he trust Dan with her care?

  The ambulance’s side door burst open, and Eddie’s face bobbed into view. “Cole, we have to go.”

  Dan swung toward the door. “You!” He brandished the scissors he’d been about to take to Sherri’s shirt and looked at Cole’s brother as if he’d tear him to pieces.

  “Eddie didn’t have anything to do with this,” Cole said quickly. “We were at the coffee shop in town when the call came in.”

  The man’s jaw worked back and forth, as if he wasn’t ready to swallow the excuse.

  But the uncertainty trembling in Sherri’s eyes as she tried to push out of his arms bothered Cole more. He set her gently onto the gurney.

  “We’ve got to go now,” Eddie pressed.

  The back door burst open, and a paramedic whose name Cole couldn’t remember jumped into the rig. “What have you got?”

  “Dog bite in the shoulder.” Dan tore off Sherri’s sleeve, revealing raw, ragged flesh.

  Eddie turned away and heaved.

  Cole focused his attention on Sherri’s face, swallowing hard.

  “I’m fine.” She rolled onto her uninjured side as if she intended to get up.

  “Take it easy, superwoman.” Dan pressed her back to the gurney as the other paramedic checked her vitals and muttered about irresponsible owners. “Is Bill checking on our 9-1-1 caller?”

  “Yeah, but sounds like it might’ve been another crank call. Neighbor says the homeowner’s been in the hospital for weeks.”

  Cole wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Sherri’s face turned even grayer.

  “Cole.” His brother’s impatient bark hit him like a blow to the back.

  He spun on his heel. “What?”

  “The woods. We have to check them out. Didn’t you see the way the dog’s ears perked? Someone blew a whistle.”

  What Eddie had been trying to tell him finally sank in. Someone had called the dog off. And that someone had to be in the woods the dog had lurched toward!

  Cole’s gaze snapped to Dan.

  “I’ll take care of her,” he said, already dousing the wound with saline. “Find the creep who did this.”

  “Right.” Cole barreled out the door. “C’mon, Eddie.” They sprinted to the two animal control officers who were lifting the tranquilized Rottweiler into a cage on the back of their truck. “You see whoever was blowing that whistle?”

  “Saw movement in the woods over there.” The officer jutted his chin toward the woods across the street. “Didn’t get a good look, though.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Cole glanced back at the yard where Zeke was still questioning neighbors, then motioned to Eddie. “C’mon.” They raced into the woods, but picking up the trail in the rotted leaves matting the ground proved difficult.

  “Over there!” Eddie pointed to a muddy boot print on a rock, then another a yard away.

  “He was probably heading toward Third Street.” Dodging tree branches, Cole raced that direction. Chances were that if the guy didn’t live nearby, he’d have a car parked on Third. The smell of rotting leaves and damp earth clawed at his throat. If this guy got to his car before Cole caught up to him— Cole cut off the thought and ran harder.

  Brighter light filtered through the trees. The road had to be close.

  An engine roared to life.

  Cole sprinted toward the sound, broke past the tree line. But the road was deserted. He slammed his palm into a tree trunk. “We lost him.” He fisted his hands against the sting of failure more than the sting in his palm. How many times would he let Sherri down?

  Eddie hunched over, braced his hands on his knees and gulped air. “Can’t you put out a BOLO?”

  “For what? We don’t even know what he’s driving.” And there weren’t any houses around. Cole stalked back through the woods in the direction they’d come. “Our best hope of tracking him is if he had a dog license for that menace. He’ll be looking at an attempted murder charge after I get through with the DA.”

  Eddie tripped over a tree root and his knees hit the dirt.

  Extending a hand to help him up, Cole spotted a cell phone in the leaves. Using a tissue to preserve fingerprints, he picked it up. “You drop this?”

  “No, I lost my phone a few days ago.”

  That explained, at least, why he hadn’t responded to any of Cole’s messages.

  Eddie wiped his dirt-smeared hands down his jeans. “You think it’s the guy’s we were chasing?”

  “If it’s still got juice, chances are good it is.” Cole hit the power button and the screen lit. He grinned. “We’ve got him.” Using a pen tip, he pushed a couple of buttons to pull up the contacts menu. “If we can’t get an ID on the owner from the phone’s number, we’ll get it from his contacts.” His heart jerked at the sight of an all-too-familiar phone number—his father and Eddie’s home number.

  Eddie’s face turned as pale as Sherri’s had been.

  “Who’s phone is this?” Cole demanded.

  “I...I...” Eddie backed away looking guilty. Very guilty.

  Cole fisted Eddie’s shirt in his hand and backed him against a tree. “Who’s terrorizing Sherri?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Whose phone is this?” Cole demanded more loudly.

  Eddie’s mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.

  Cole shoved him hard against the tree. “Tell me.”

  “It’s mine. It’s my phone.”

  “Yours?” Cole’s grip went lax. Eddie had been with him the whole time. There was no way he could’ve sicced that dog on Sherri, and if he knew who had, he wouldn’t have pressed Cole to follow the dog. Would he?

  “Can I have it back?” Eddie’s voice quivered.

  “No, we need to dust it for fingerprints.” Cole’s breath bottled up in his lungs. They’d find Eddie’s prints, identify the phone as Eddie’s, and take one look at his rap sheet and not believe for a second that he wasn’t connected.

  Alibi or not.

  And Cole—the new cop brother—trying to defend him would not go over well.

  Eddie tugged on his arm. “Cole, you can’t turn it in. They’ll think I’m trying to hurt her. You know they will. But I’m not. I swear I’m not.”

  Cole flung off his grasp, plodded back toward the road. “I can’t withhold evidence.” He could still picture the censure in Sherri’s eyes when he’d begged her not to say anything about the pills she’d found in his pocket. “If this phone is found out later, it’ll only make you look more guilty, like I was trying to cover for you.”

  “They wouldn’t find out. ’Cause I’m not going to tell them. They’ll put me in juvie this time for sure if you turn it in. Please, you can’t do thi
s to me. I’m your brother.”

  His conscience twinged. “I’m not doing it to you. I’m trying to stop whoever is terrorizing Sherri.”

  “So you’re choosing her over me? Just like you always chose everyone else over me.”

  “What? That’s not true.” Except even as he said it the many times Eddie had begged him to play with him paraded through Cole’s mind, and every time he’d chosen to go out with his buddies instead.

  “You’re just like Dad. You look like him. You sound like him. And you think like him. Family doesn’t mean anything to you.”

  Cole rammed Eddie against a tree, rage boiling in his chest. “I’m nothing like that man.” All his life he’d been told how much he was like his father. Until seven years ago it had seemed like a compliment. Now it ate at his insides like acid. “I’m here because of you. I left the Seattle police force and took this job because of you. Because I care about you.”

  Eddie shoved him away. “You got a funny way of showing it. And if you cared so much, why’d it take you seven years to come back? Huh?”

  “Because you’re not the only one Dad’s choices hurt. Mom needed me. And I didn’t trust myself not to rip him to pieces if I saw him again. The only reason he sweet-talked you into staying was to spite her, and you were too thick-headed to see it.”

  The tears that sprang to Eddie’s eyes hit Cole square in the gut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yes, you did.” Eddie stalked out of the woods.

  Eddie had always been desperate for Dad’s attention, because Dad had always favored Cole. Was it any wonder that Eddie had clung to the chance to be on the receiving end of the attention he’d always craved, no matter how dysfunctional Dad’s motives? Clearly the attention hadn’t lasted long.

  Or were the drugs a desperate attempt to get it back?

  Cole trailed Eddie out of the woods, kicking himself for blowing it so badly. It was almost a relief when Eddie started walking down the road instead of heading to Cole’s truck. They both needed time to cool down.

  The ambulance had left. Only Zeke and the wall-climbing guy were still at the scene. The guy shook Zeke’s hand, then climbed in the orange car. At the sound of the engine roaring to life, Eddie turned and stuck out his thumb. The guy pulled up beside him, and Eddie climbed in.

  Cole hovered on the opposite side of the road, his brother’s phone heavy in his pocket. “So who was that guy?”

  “Ted Holmes. He said he was driving by and saw the paramedics in trouble, so stopped to help.” Zeke squinted from the disappearing car to Cole. “What happened with your brother?”

  “We had a disagreement.” Reaching for Eddie’s phone, Cole crossed the road to hand it over to Zeke. Whatever evidence they could get off the phone might be the key to finding out who was terrorizing Sherri. No matter what Eddie thought about his loyalties, he owed Sherri that much.

  SIX

  Blood seeped through Sherri’s fingers as she frantically piled more bandages on the wound, more and more bandages. But the bleeding wouldn’t stop. The pop, pop, pop of gunfire wouldn’t stop. The dog lunging at her wouldn’t—

  “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” a tender voice whispered through the ones in her head. A warm hand squeezed her arm, compelled it to still.

  She relaxed. Slowly turned her palm up. Her skin tingled at the rasp of fingers traveling down the tender inside of her arm, then closing possessively around hers.

  Her heart jolted. Where was she? She clawed out of her dream’s residual emotions and opened her eyes.

  Cole smiled down at her—an uncertain smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Bad dream?”

  She blinked, reached up to scrub her eyes, certain she must still be dreaming. But the burning tug of her shoulder stitches grounded her firmly in reality. She discreetly pulled her sheets higher. Where was the nurse? She should’ve been back by now with the antibiotic shot so Sherri could get out of here.

  Bad dreams she could handle. Cole she couldn’t. Not here. Not now. Not when he looked at her as if she were as fragile as spun glass.

  “Who’s Luke?” he asked softly.

  “What?” How did he know about—?

  Heat climbed to her cheeks. The nightmare. She looked down the long room of curtained beds, anywhere but at Cole. The ER buzzed with its usual flurry of activity—the clatter of instruments, the beep of monitors, the hum of voices—sounds that usually eased her tension when bringing in a patient. Today the noise left her nerves frayed.

  Where was Dan? Hadn’t he said he’d only be a few minutes when he left to find her a shirt to wear home?

  Cole had changed out of his bloodstained T-shirt into the kind of soft flannel shirt she used to imagine snuggling against on a cool evening. She still could feel how securely he’d held her earlier. So close she could hear his heart pound beneath her ear. He hadn’t seemed to want to let her go, either, despite her accusation the night before last that he was enabling Eddie instead of helping him. Worse than that, she hadn’t wanted him to let her go.

  Oh, this was so not good. Ignoring his question about Luke, she strained for a light tone. “Don’t tell me my partner wrangled you into driving me home?”

  “No, but I’d be happy to.” He grinned as though he meant it.

  Her fingers tightened around the bedsheets. “Thanks, but that’s okay.” Cole might not be wearing his uniform, but she could see the questions in his eyes. And could imagine what he might’ve overheard her babbling in her sleep. “Dan’ll be here any minute.” She couldn’t believe she’d actually dozed off. “Um...” She squinted up at him. “Why are you here?”

  His eyebrow arched as if he thought she was as addled as she felt with the painkillers fogging her brain. “I’m trying to figure out who sicced that dog on you. Did you recognize the dog? Was it Luke’s?”

  “No! Why would you think that?”

  His head tilted, his scrutiny intensifying. “You were wrestling the dog in your sleep and muttered the name Luke more than once.”

  The blood drained from her face, and a numbing chill iced her veins. “It was just a dream.” Except...the memory of Luke’s father confronting her after the interment flared in her mind. Luke’s devoted dog had been there, too. She squinted, trying to picture what breed it had been, but could only recall how pitifully it had whined as the casket had been lowered into the ground.

  “Are you sure?” Cole grilled, yanking the privacy curtain farther around the bed.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Because I pulled the dog license records for Stalwart and the surrounding county. A Luke Atkins was the first name on the list, and he owns a Rottweiler.”

  Yes, his dog had been a Rottweiler. She remembered now. The poor thing had refused to budge from its place next to Luke’s open grave, and she’d knelt down to stroke its head.

  Luke’s father had gone berserk, yanked her away, told her she’d had some nerve showing up at his boy’s funeral. He’d told her Luke would still be alive if she’d done her job.

  Steeling herself against the crushing weight of that reminder, she buzzed the nurse. If they’d get here with the antibiotic shot already, she could go.

  Cole’s fingers skimmed her jaw, gently turning her face to his. “What’s wrong? Can I help?”

  “I was just wondering what the holdup was on my needle.” Sherri avoided his gaze. All this time she’d been so sure it had been her crew driving her to quit she hadn’t even thought of Luke’s father.

  Cole’s hand fell away from her face. “Sherri, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Who’s Luke?”

  The image of Luke’s blood seeping through her fingers seared her mind. She sucked in deep breaths, her hands pressing into her chest as if pushing harder would stop the bleeding. Oh, God, please don’t let me fall apart here. Please. She buried her hands under her armpits and willed her emotions into submission.

  “Who? Is? Luke?” Cole dem
anded. “Do you think he’s behind these attacks?”

  She choked on the lunacy of the notion. “No, of course not.”

  Cole’s gaze darkened. “How do you know?”

  Fighting back tears, she clasped her hand over her mouth and shook her head.

  “How do you know?” he repeated more insistently.

  “Because he’s dead.” Dan stepped around the curtain and shot Cole a look so heated it would have melted steel.

  A guttural moan escaped Cole’s throat, his hold slackening. “I’m sorry.”

  Her heart stuttered at the empathy in his tone, at his stricken look. “He was my partner,” she whispered. “He died five months ago.”

  Before Cole could plug her for details, Dan, bless his heart, thrust a small bouquet into her hands. “From the guys.”

  The bundle of mums, freesias and carnations was the kind that sat in water buckets at the grocery checkout—colorful but already a little droopy.

  “Thank them for me.” Sherri blinked back tears, knowing she shouldn’t be touched. It was standard policy to chip in for something whenever anyone on the team got injured. Except maybe she’d misjudged them. Maybe Luke’s father had been behind everything. If anyone hated her enough to hurt her, it would be him. Or maybe no one was and she was just being paranoid.

  No, not paranoid. Just because some stupid online test said she had post-traumatic stress disorder didn’t make it so. Dan was the one who’d insisted Cole investigate, not her. Sure, she’d been a little jumpy since Luke’s death, and yeah, she’d had nightmares. Who wouldn’t?

  But she was not paranoid.

  “You got a lead on who did this?” Dan snapped at Cole, his eyes narrowing. “Besides your brother.”

  “Not yet.” The twitch in Cole’s cheek betrayed the sting of Dan’s accusation. Or maybe he was thinking of her initial suspicions that put Dan and his buddies at the top of the suspect list. Cole unfolded a piece of paper and held it in front of her. “These are the names of every licensed Rottweiler owner in the county. Do you recognize any of the names besides Luke’s?”

  Dan snorted. “Do you really think a guy who’d sic a ferocious dog on someone is going to bother buying a dog license?”