OTHER STORIES IN THE L.A. METRO SERIES

 

The Wish

L.A. Metro

A Treat for Halloween Tricksters

Two Hearts—One Mind (coming soon...)

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

It has been a long and often bumpy road as I endeavored to complete this novel. If not for the support and assistance from a group of wonderful people I would not have completed the project. Thank you all.

As always to ETJ. Your love and support keep me going every day.

To Pam. You stuck with me through it all and I’m very grateful for your friendship. You told me things I needed to hear, even when I didn’t want to hear them. Thank you.

To Jae, my critique partner. Thanks for catching all those danglers. Glad I could provide some humor along the way.

To Eleanore. Thank you for having faith in me, even when I had lost faith in myself. Your unflagging support means so much.

A special thank-you goes to my editor, Sandra Gerth, for making the editing process as stress-free as possible. It was a pleasure working with you.

Thanks to Glendon at Streetlight Graphics for creating a fantastic cover.

Thanks go to Day Peterson for editing and to Blu for proofreading.

And last, but certainly not least, a big thank-you to my publisher, Astrid. I appreciate your patience and understanding.

DEDICATION

To my sister, Gwenn.

No matter what separates us, be it time, distance, or barriers of our own making, you will always be in my heart. I miss you.

CHAPTER 1

Officer Sam McKenna strode across the street to the station house. Pausing for a moment before entering, she glanced at her navy blue uniform shirt and adjusted the bulletproof vest underneath, then settled her equipment belt more firmly around her hips. Satisfied with her appearance, she pulled open the door and stepped into the main lobby.

Long-ingrained habit made her scan the room.

At this time of the morning, things were fairly quiet. An overweight man paced the length of the bulletproof glass that boxed in the main desk area. The wooden chairs lining one side of the room were empty except for one forlorn-looking woman whose already pale face was given a sickly pallor by the industrial green paint on the walls. She kept glancing at the door through which prisoners were released, a sure sign that she’d been there before.

As Sam passed by the desk on her way to roll call, she waved at the duty sergeant, who was tied up on the phone.

“Hey, Sam. Wait up.”

At the sound of Marina’s voice, a smile tugged up the corners of Sam’s mouth. Memories of their brief time together as lovers filled her mind. The passion had burned out fairly quickly, but they had ended up becoming good friends.

“What’s up?” Sam asked as they made their way toward the room where roll call was held.

“Have you heard how many rookies we’re going to get?”

Sam grimaced, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news. Marina had just qualified as an instructor for the Field Training Officer program, but with the limited number of rookies being assigned to their division wouldn’t be training one this time around.

“Only two.”

“Damn!” Marina smacked her hand against the doorframe as they entered roll call. “We need at least six.”

“I know.” Sam shook her head. “Budget constraints, resources spread thin, and all that crap.”

Today would bring the new training assignments for the next eighteen weeks. As one of the senior FTOs, Sam would be assigned one of the incoming rookies.

“Come on. Let’s grab a seat,” she said. The rows of long tables and folding chairs in the briefing room were rapidly filling up.

Marina groused under her breath but slid into the chair next to Sam.

From her place in the back of the room, Sam scanned for the two rookies. They weren’t hard to spot, even though she could only see them from behind. Where the veteran officers were all relaxed, joking and enjoying their breakfast as the briefing continued, the rookies sat stiffly, almost at attention.

As always, the sergeant left the introductions for the end. “One last thing before I let you go,” he said. “We have two new rookies with us today, Brad Davidson and Kellie Matthews. Stand up, you two.”

The rookies stood to face their fellow officers. Greetings and catcalls echoed through the room.

“Okay, everyone is dismissed,” the sergeant said. “Howard, McKenna, come get your rookies.”

As the other officers crowded out of the room, Sam made her way to the front to appraise the rookies.

Matthews was short, probably just making five feet four. But she was sturdily built, with well-muscled arms showing beneath the sleeves of her uniform shirt. Her long blond hair was done up in a tight French braid. Davidson, sporting a military-style haircut, personified the description of ordinary: brown eyes, brown hair, average build. Both had to be at least twenty-one, but they looked like kids to her. She shook her head. Thirty-three suddenly felt old.

Davidson was working hard at appearing relaxed, but his rapid blinking and the flickering of his gaze around the room gave him away. Matthews, on the other hand, wasn’t even trying to hide her nerves. She still stood at attention, not daring to move a muscle.

Smothering a grin, Sam gently bumped her shoulder in passing and winked when scared green eyes met hers. “Relax before you strain something,” she said, her voice pitched just for the woman’s ears.

Matthews’ rigid stance eased a little, but not much.

Sam propped her hip against a nearby table and glanced over at her fellow FTO. Howard was a know-it-all blowhard, who filled rookies’ heads with a lot of outdated nonsense and was not a big fan of female police officers.

Assign her to me, she mentally willed the supervising sergeant.

“Officers Howard and McKenna are the FTOs you’ll be working with for the next eighteen weeks. Matthews, you’re assigned to Officer Howard. Davidson, you’re with Officer McKenna,” the sergeant said, pointing to each of them in turn.

Sam grimaced internally. Damn. She spared Matthews a sympathetic glance before turning to the rookie assigned to her.

His gaze roamed her body before finally making it to her face.

Not the way to make a good start with me, rookie. Sam straightened, watching his eyes widen when she easily matched his height, and pinned him in place with a withering glare.

He gulped and quickly averted his gaze.

“Let’s go, Davidson.” She turned and stalked out of the room, never looking back to see whether he was following.

It was going to be a long eighteen weeks.

CHAPTER 2

“You should’ve seen Davidson’s face after this little bit of nothing took him down,” Sam said.

Laughter erupted from the women gathered in the back room at O’Grady’s bar for their regular Friday night bullshit session.

“Yeah, but did a kick in the crotch cool his jets toward you?” Karen asked.

Sam snorted. “I wish. I still can’t believe no one at the station clued him in.” She shook her head. “I thought for sure Howard would. I finally just told Davidson that asking me out was a lost cause.”

A bottle of beer appeared over her shoulder. Looking back, she grinned at the new arrival. “Hey, Marina. I didn’t think you’d make it.” She took the offered beer and set it down among the bottles and snack bowls that littered the table. “We were just getting ready to pack it in.”

Marina greeted the other police officers at the table, then pulled a chair over and sat down next to Sam.

Waggling her eyebrows, Sam asked, “How was your vacation?”

“Good,” Marina said with a soft smile.

Tilting her head, Sam peered at her friend. For a while, she had thought Marina was like her—out for a good time and leery of commitment. Marina had been the one to end their affair and suggest they just be friends, but her attitude had changed when she met Elizabeth a few months ago. Sam quashed a brief surge of envy. Face it. You don’t do girlfriends. You proved that once again with Christy.

Marina tousled Sam’s hair. “I like the new look.”

“Cut it out.” Sam rubbed her hand through her freshly shorn locks, still not used to it. While she had always worn her hair short, it had never been to this extreme. She had seen the pixie haircut on a TV newswoman and on a whim decided to try it.

“She’s going for the butch look, hoping to cool off her overeager rookie.” Darcy smirked. “Or was it to try and attract some new women you haven’t managed to bag yet?”

Sam shot her a dirty look. Talk about holding a grudge. Their falling out had been two years ago, and she’d apologized—twice.

Marina turned her back on Darcy. “So what happened with your rookie while I was gone?”

As Sam began to relate the story, the other women at the table said their good-byes. Soon, she and Marina were alone.

Marina winced and laughed when Sam got to the climax of her story. “Poor kid. Bet he never looks at a ‘little lady’ quite the same way again.”

Sam joined her laughter, then sobered. “Better a kick in the crotch early on than something worse later because he thinks he’s invincible. You know as well as I do, there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance. And this kid was on the wrong side of it.” She blew out a breath and snagged her neglected beer.

“I hear you on that one.” Marina grinned. “Maybe I should add that to my teaching techniques: if a rookie doesn’t listen, deliver a swift kick to the crotch. It would work on men and women.”

Laughing, Sam dropped her hands into her lap and covered her sex. “Youch! Talk about a motivational technique.”

“Enough work talk. Are Kim and Jess going to be back from their honeymoon in time to come to our game next week? I want to ask them which island they liked best in Hawaii.” Marina’s expression grew soft, her eyes shining with emotion. “Elizabeth wants to go there for the Christmas holidays.”

Sam smiled, still not quite believing that her big sister was married. Refusing to give in to the feelings of inadequacy that tugged at her, she focused on Marina, and being happy for her as well.

While she really was pleased that her friend had found someone special, that wasn’t going to stop her from tweaking her. “Marina, it’s barely summer. Isn’t it a little early to be planning for Christmas? Geez, three months together, and you’re pussy-whipped already.”

Marina laughed and waggled her eyebrows. “Chica, you don’t know the half of it. And it is so worth it!”

“They’ll be back on Sunday. Kim is the one you want to talk to. She planned it all out. If it was up to Jess, they probably would have just stayed at home, so she could keep Kim all to herself.” Sam grinned. Not that I could blame her for that.

“I always knew your sister was a smart woman.”

An image of Jess, her face aglow with love as she stood beneath a rose-covered arbor with Kim, flashed through Sam’s mind.

You’ve got that right.

CHAPTER 3

“This is so not fair.” Davidson slapped the steering wheel. “After six weeks together, you finally let me drive, and what do we end up doing? Following an ambulance transporting a drunk with a cut on his head to Grandview. Come on, they’re not even running lights and sirens.”

He sounded just as Sam had when she’d been a rookie. “What have I told you? Most police work is routine and boring.” Still, she couldn’t resist nettling him. “What? You didn’t get enough excitement in the bar?”

Davidson scowled. “You call that excitement? It wasn’t even a bar fight. The guy just trashed the place because the bartender cut him off. He was passed out on the floor by the time we got there.”

“So that’s what you want? Some excitement?” In her almost nine years on the force, she’d had more than her share of excitement. She would take a nice, boring day any day, as would most experienced officers.

“Couldn’t hurt. Our whole day is shot. We’re gonna be stuck babysitting this guy for hours in the ER, then more time processing him at the station. What a waste. We could be out stopping actual crime.”

“Haven’t you ever heard the old Chinese proverb about that? You know, the one that says, ‘Be careful what you wish for, you might get it.’”

His brow furrowed. “Huh? Isn’t that the point of wishing for something?”

Sam shook her head. The kid still had an awful lot to learn.

Trying to distract herself from the guy’s deafening snores, Sam surveyed the patient cubicle where they had been relegated to wait with their suspect. Her surroundings had not gotten any more interesting in the minutes since the last time she had done so. Three ugly gray walls, one dingy brown curtain, one wall cabinet, one IV stand, one—

With a loud snort, their suspect woke up and looked around blearily. When he tried to sit up, he realized he was cuffed to the gurney. “Let me go! I didn’t do nothing.” He jerked on the cuffs and drummed his feet against the gurney. “Let me go. Let me go.”

Sam pressed her hand against his shoulder. “Settle down.” She looked over at Davidson on the opposite side of the gurney and arched an eyebrow. This the kind of excitement you were looking for?

A panicked yell, followed by what sounded like falling equipment, from somewhere close by drew her attention.

It’s an ER. People are hurt, and they yell. Still, Sam felt compelled to check it out. She peeked out from behind the curtain, just in time to see a man in a business suit drag a woman wearing a lab coat into the last cubicle and then whip the curtain closed.

“Someone call security,” a woman in blue scrubs shouted.

Sam pulled open the curtain and stepped out. “I’m going to check this out.” Davidson moved to follow her. “You stay with him.”

“But—”

“Stay with him.” Sam tapped the mike clipped to her shirt. “I’ll call if I need backup.”

She raced up to the staff milling around outside the cubicle where the man and woman had disappeared. “Everyone get back,” she said quietly but firmly and herded the group away from the closed curtain. “Did any of you see a weapon?”

“No,” one of the nurses said. “The guy just walked up to the nurses’ station and grabbed Dr. Connolly.”

The rest of the gathered staff nodded.

“Did he call her by name? Did she seem to recognize him?”

The assembled staff glanced at one another, but no one offered any information. The nurse who had spoken up the first time said, “I think she might have known him, but I’m not positive. He didn’t say anything, just snatched her before anyone could react.”

Sam kept her eye on the curtain but saw no sign of movement. It was deathly silent behind the curtain. What the hell was going on?

She quickly surveyed the area, motioned to one of the nurses, then pointed down the hallway at the single row of curtained rooms. “Quietly clear any patients from those cubicles. Get everyone back to the nurses’ station. Stay there and wait for security.” The last thing she wanted was a confrontation with innocent bystanders nearby.

As soon as the hospital employees had moved out of the way, she stepped up to the curtain and eased it aside.

The perp had the petite doctor pinned against the wall next to the gurney. He had one hand over her mouth and was tearing at her clothes with the other. She was fighting him for all she was worth.

The sight galvanized Sam into action. “Police! Stop. Take your hands off her.”

The man backpedaled at her approach. In the close quarters, his feet got tangled in the IV stand. He grabbed the pole for support and then shoved it at Sam. “Fuck you! She’s mine.”

The IV pole banged into Sam, and the equipment attached to it snagged on her utility belt.

His hand dove into his suit coat pocket.

Weapon!

She struggled to free herself from the IV stand with one hand and reached for her gun with the other.

Time seemed to almost stand still. Each second ticked by as if it were a minute.

A small-caliber handgun cleared the man’s coat pocket and zeroed in on the doctor before Sam could raise her weapon.

In a heartbeat, she was moving. Before even being aware of making the decision, she stepped directly into the line of fire.

The report of the gun was loud in the small room.

The doctor screamed.

A burning sensation spread across Sam’s shoulder and down her arm. Despite the pain, she struggled to bring her weapon up.

“She’s mine,” he yelled and fired again.

Searing pain in her leg robbed Sam of breath, and she staggered. She felt herself going down but was powerless to stop it.

Arms wrapped around her waist from behind, but they weren’t enough to stop her momentum.

The muzzle of the gun pointing directly at her filled her vision as she crumpled to the floor.

Pain lanced through her head, darkness following swiftly on its heels.

No! Dear God, please. No. Dr. Riley Connolly threw herself over the body of the downed officer.

“Police! Drop the weapon!”

Relief washed over her.

“She’s mine!” Keith screamed again.

Boom! Boom! The sound of the shots reverberated in the room.

Riley flinched, expecting to feel the searing pain of a bullet in her back. When no pain came, she jerked her head up, ears still ringing.

A few feet away, Keith lay on the floor, half-sprawled against the wall. A lurid red smear trailed down the wall above him.

A police officer, his weapon still extended at arm’s length, stood frozen in the entrance to the cubicle.

His gun tracked her movement as Riley eased herself up onto her knees. Shaken, she blurted out the first thing that came into her head. “I’m a doctor.” She slowly raised her trembling hands so that he could see them.

His gaze slid over her torn scrub shirt, but his gun never wavered. “Don’t move.” He stepped over and checked Keith, then holstered his weapon. “He’s dead,” he said, his voice shaky.

Bile burned at the back of Riley’s throat. Her professional instincts kicking in, she quickly assessed the location of Keith’s wounds and realized he was undoubtedly correct. Her gaze darted to the fallen officer and the rapidly spreading pool of blood seeping out from under her, then back up to the policewoman’s partner. “Please let me help her.”

The sound of running feet heralded the arrival of hospital security.

“Wait. Stay back.” The officer stepped forward and quickly secured Keith’s gun and then his partner’s weapon. Turning an agonized gaze on Riley, he said, “Save her. Please.”

Riley nodded.

Two security guards peered into the room.

Riley raised her voice to be heard over the sound of excited voices in the hall. “Let the medical staff through. We’ve got two people down.”

She reached for that place inside that allowed her to push away all emotion so that she could do her job. This wasn’t the time to think about what had just happened—what this woman had done for her. She tugged her lab coat closed to cover the remnants of her ruined scrub shirt, the formerly pristine white stained by the officer’s blood. After pulling a pair of gloves from her pocket and donning them, she moved quickly to evaluate the condition of the wounded officer.

Once she’d made sure her airway was intact, she moved on in her examination. She had seen the officer strike her head on the wall cabinet when she fell, so she checked the woman’s pupils. They were equal and reactive. Good. Riley gave the head laceration a cursory glance. It could wait, and so could her shoulder.

The officer’s pants were saturated with blood, and Riley hurriedly cut away the material. Blood pulsed from the thigh wound.

“We need to get her into a trauma room,” she called out to the arriving medical personnel. “Move it, people, I’ve got an arterial bleeder here.”

As they lifted the officer onto a gurney and rushed toward the trauma bay, Riley kept pressure on the damaged artery to tamponade the vessel.

The ER was in a state of pandemonium.

Riley remained the calm at the center of the storm, aware of nothing but the injured officer. Even as she worked to stop the bleeding, she was issuing orders for lab work, IVs, and blood.

The ER staff moved around her as if in a choreographed dance. The officer was quickly stripped of her gear and clothing. A nurse called out her vital signs. IVs were inserted, blood drawn, and she was attached to a monitor.

There it is! Riley slid a vascular clamp onto the damaged artery and temporarily occluded the blood vessel. “That’s it. Let’s get her to the OR.” She grabbed the gurney and pulled it out of the room.

CHAPTER 4

As Jess McKenna neared the nurses’ station, she frowned at the sight of Karen and Terrell, two of her residents, huddled together over the screen of his phone. She strode over. “Back to work.”

The duo jumped at the sound of her voice.

“You both know there’s no use of personal phones during working hours.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. McKenna,” Terrell said, his hand clenched tightly around the phone. “I was walking through the waiting room and saw a news flash on the TV that a police officer had been shot. I was trying to find out where in the city it happened.”

Jess’s stomach sank. Don’t let it be his brother. She gave his shoulder a brief squeeze. “Go ahead and see what you can find out.”

Though he was trying to hide it, she knew Terrell must be terrified. If the shooting had been in San Diego instead of LA, she would have been too. She sent up a prayer for her sister. Stay safe, Sam.

Terrell let out a whoop. “Thank God.”

“What?” Jess asked.

“It couldn’t have been Jerome. The shooting wasn’t even in LA.”

“What shooting?” Kim asked as she walked up to stand next to Jess.

Jess smiled at her wife. My wife! She still couldn’t believe it. They had been back at work only three days, and she already wished they could go back to the beach in Hawaii where they had spent their honeymoon.

“Terrell saw a news bulletin about a police officer being shot, but it didn’t happen in LA.”

Terrell shut off his phone and stuck it in his pocket. “I know I shouldn’t be happy, because it means someone else is going to get bad news, but I can’t help it.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Kim said. Her brow furrowed. “Was the shooting in California?”

“Yeah, San Diego.”

Jess’s insides turned to ice. No. He’s wrong. It was someplace else. She reached for Kim’s hand.

Scared blue eyes gazed back at her.

The phone on the counter began to trill stridently.

Penny answered. Her gaze flickered over to Jess, and her eyes went wide.

A dark premonition shrouded Jess’s soul. God, no! Please, not Sam. She tightened her grip on Kim’s hand as if it was her lifeline.

Penny held out the phone. Jess knew what she was going to say before she spoke. “Dr. McKenna, it’s the police. They say it’s an emergency.”

Kim held Jess’s hand in a crushing grip and refused to let go. This couldn’t be happening. Everything around her faded into the background. It was just her and Jess and the phone call that could change their lives forever.

With her free hand, Jess touched Kim’s face for just a moment. Swallowing heavily, Kim released Jess’s hand.

Jess walked to the counter as if approaching the gallows and took the phone from Penny. “This is Dr. McKenna.”

Kim clenched her hands so tightly that her nails bit into her palms.

Jess listened for a moment, then her knees buckled and she grasped the counter for support.

Kim rushed to her side, but Jess waved her off and quickly regained her composure. Pain stabbed Kim’s heart at the rejection. I thought we were past this. She immediately berated herself. This isn’t about you and Jess. God. Sam. A tear trailed down her face.

“Yes. I understand. Thank you,” Jess said. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

The flat, emotionless tone of Jess’s voice worried Kim, adding to the burning sensation in her stomach. Please, God, just let her be alive. We can deal with anything else.

Jess turned, her face a blank mask. As if she had heard Kim’s prayer, she said, “She’s alive.”

Kim burst into tears. “Thank God.” She threw herself into Jess’s arms and clung to her. “Thank you, God.”

Jess patted her back for a moment and then pulled away. Her eyes were dry. “We need to get to San Diego as quickly as we can.”

“I’ll call psych and get someone to cover for me. Give me five minutes.” Hang on, Sam. We’ll be there soon.

“Come on. Move already!” Jess glared through the windshield at the sea of cars. Traffic had slowed to a crawl as the heavy afternoon commute reached its peak. “Anything new?” She glanced at Kim.

“Nothing new since they released Sam’s name and academy picture half an hour ago. Local and national stations keep repeating the same information,” Kim huffed out a frustrated breath, “over and over again. She’s still in surgery.”

You’re just torturing yourself, and Kim. As the head of the ER, Jess knew that neither the police nor the hospital would release any information about Sam’s condition until the family arrived. But this was her sister. Even though she knew it was pointless, she couldn’t help checking, in case even a speck of information was released. At the same time, a part of her dreaded what she might hear. Sam could be dead and they would still say she was in surgery. The icy hand of fear clutched her heart. Don’t even think that. Sam is alive. She has to be!

“Should I try to reach Frank and Cheryl again?”

Jess’s fear morphed into anger. “Why can’t they just answer their fucking phones!” She slammed her hand against the steering wheel, causing the SUV to swerve. Quickly, she righted it and clenched the wheel with a white-knuckled grip. Why the hell did Frank have to pick now to go on vacation?

“Hey. Easy. We know they’re hiking in Yosemite. They’re probably still in an area with no cell service.” Kim put her hand on Jess’s shoulder.

Jess jerked away, then immediately regretted the reaction. She risked a look at Kim and wanted to smack herself in the head. Idiot. “I’m sorry.” She gently took Kim’s hand and placed it on her thigh, then laid her hand on top. “I don’t mean to take it out on you. I know this is hard on you too. I’m just so…”

“I know, love.” Kim pulled her hand from under Jess’s and leaned across the console. She slid her hand into Jess’s hair at the nape of her neck and softly stroked her neck. “We’re doing everything we can. Aunt Edna is dealing with the cruise ship lines to contact your folks. The rangers are looking for your brother and Cheryl.”

“I know. But what if…” Jess clenched her teeth so tightly her jaw ached. “I screwed up. I should’ve gotten a contact number when they called me at the hospital. I should have the phone numbers of Sam’s police friends. I should’ve—”

“Jess. Stop this. Right now!”

Jess whipped her head to the side to stare at Kim. She had never heard her use such a commanding tone. Blue eyes that seemed to glow from within met her gaze, and she quickly turned her attention back to the road to escape the piercing look.

“Enough,” Kim said, her tone much calmer. “We’ll drive ourselves crazy with what-ifs and should haves.” She squeezed Jess’s thigh. “I’m scared too.” She held up her phone and set it on the dash. “And this isn’t helping. I could check every ten seconds, and it wouldn’t change a thing. We need to have faith that Sam will be all right. That’s what we need to focus on.”

As usual, she was right. Consciously relaxing the tense set of her shoulders, Jess took a cleansing breath and then another. It took some time, but eventually some of the tension drained from her body. Smiling, she looked over at Kim, this time unafraid to meet her gaze. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jess. And we’re going to get through this, like we always do—together.”

Kim eyed the press people and their cameras as she and Jess rushed into the lobby of Grandview Medical Center. Jess had a firm grip on her hand but still wore the blank, emotionless look she had donned the second they stepped out of their SUV.

Jess tugged on her hand. “There’s the information desk.”

As Jess headed in that direction at a fast clip, Kim spotted a man wearing a press pass lurking near the info desk.

When he caught sight of Jess, he did a double take and moved within hearing range of the clerk manning the desk.

“Wait, Jess.”

“What?” Jess slowed but didn’t stop.

“Come with me.” Kim pulled on her hand, trying to lead her away from the desk. For a moment, she did not think Jess would come.

Jess stopped. She glanced at the desk as if drawn to it, then back at Kim. After blowing out a breath, she allowed herself to be led away. “What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as they stopped.

“There are reporters everywhere. See that one standing right in front of the info desk?”

Jess glanced over and nodded.

“You know what the press is like. If they hear you ask about Sam and say you’re her sister, all hell will break loose.”

“I don’t care.” Jess’s expression hardened. “We have to find out where Sam is.”

Kim heard what Jess didn’t say. And how Sam is. She was as anxious to get to Sam as Jess was. The question was how to do that without alerting the ghouls from the press. Her gaze swept the lobby again. Standing off to the side, near the information desk, was a uniformed San Diego police officer, keeping a close eye on the desk, probably waiting for them.

CHAPTER 5

Bright overhead lights reflected off the white tile of the surgeons’ locker room, making Riley’s tired eyes sting. A glance around confirmed she was alone. After finding her boss and a hospital lawyer waiting for her outside the OR, she wasn’t in the mood to face anyone else. She stretched her aching back as she trudged over to her locker.

After stripping off her outer surgical gown, she froze and started to tremble when her ruined scrub shirt came into view. Memories of Keith’s hands tearing at her clothes ambushed her. She again felt his body pinning her forcefully against the wall, his intent blatantly apparent against her belly. The soiled gown dropped from her suddenly nerveless fingers. She slid down the front of her locker and buried her face against her upraised knees. Unwanted tears dampened the fabric of her scrub pants.

The sound of the outer door opening made her lift her head and rub frantically at her tear-streaked face. She scrambled to her feet and spun toward her locker before anyone could witness her tears.

“Riley!” Denny called.

Not about to embarrass herself in front of her friend and fellow trauma surgeon, she fought back renewed tears.

Rapid footsteps sounded behind her.

Riley took a deep breath and turned to face him. His dark, bushy hair stood on end as if he had run his hands through it countless times. Worried brown eyes gazed at her. Before she could stop him, he pulled her into his arms. She stiffened, then forced herself to relax in his embrace. After a moment, she gently pushed him away.

“Are you all right? The nurses downstairs said you weren’t hurt, but I needed to be sure.”

With long practice, she pushed her emotions down and put a calm expression on her face. “I’m fine.”

His gaze dropped to her scrub shirt, and his eyes widened. “He didn’t…?”

Tugging her torn shirt back together, Riley said, “No.”

“What happened, Riley? I thought you broke it off with Keith months ago. Why would he do something like this now?”

She really did not want to get into this with him. What was done was done. But she knew Denny wouldn’t let it go.

“There’s not much to tell. Keith wanted to keep dating. It wasn’t bad at first. He kept asking me out, sending me flowers, that kind of thing, but then six weeks ago, things changed.” Riley had no intention of telling Denny what had happened that set Keith off. “He followed me a few times, started calling at all hours, and vandalized my car.”

“Damn it, Riley. Why didn’t you say something?” Denny looked as if he wanted to shake her.

When he reached toward her, unexpected fear chased down Riley’s spine. She took a hasty step backward and banged into her locker. Her hands clutched the front of her scrub shirt closed.

Denny held up his hands in a placating gesture and moved back.

“Sorry.” This was Denny. He would never hurt her. “I guess I’m just kind of jumpy after…everything.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I should have realized.” He jammed his hands into his lab coat pockets. “I wish you had told me Keith was bothering you. Maybe I could have helped.”

She had learned early on to handle things on her own, so asking for help had never occurred to her. She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged.

Denny raked his fingers through his hair. “What did Dwayne the Pain and the lawyer want? I saw them lurking outside the OR when they brought the officer out.”

Riley grimaced. Her interactions with Dr. Dwayne McBain, the interim trauma center medical director, were aggravating on the best of days. After everything she had been through, she was physically and emotionally exhausted. Finding McBain outside the OR waiting to pounce had gotten on her last nerve. Not that she would ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“You know McBain.” She shrugged. “Nothing makes him happier than the chance to give one of his surgeons a hard time and remind them that he’s in charge. I’ll be so glad when Dr. Lin comes back and resumes his position. Anyway, McBain was ticked off that I operated on the police officer. According to him, I should have let someone else do the surgery.”

When Denny shuffled his feet and didn’t reply, she narrowed her eyes at him. “You think he was right?”

“Well…I can kind of see his point.”

Anger seized Riley and dug its talons deep. “So I should have just hung back and done nothing? And watch the woman who saved me bleed out in front of me?”

Denny stared at her open-mouthed.

Riley wasn’t sure who was more surprised by her outburst: she or Denny. Get control of yourself. She took a deep breath and then blew it out.

“I’m sorry. I know how hard this must be with everything that has happened. I shouldn’t have questioned your judgment.” He glanced away. “I heard about Keith.”

“Keith made me miserable, and I wanted him out of my life…but not like this.” A vivid flashback of the blood-smeared wall and Keith lying sprawled on the floor slammed into her. She pressed her hands to her stomach as a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her.

Denny wrapped his hands around her upper arms as her knees buckled. “Come on. You need to sit down.” He guided her to a nearby bench, where he pulled her down next to him and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Riley shrugged off his arm and slid down the bench to put some distance between them. Although he meant well, she needed some space—physically and emotionally. “I need to change and get back to work. I have to check on my patient.” She frowned when she realized she didn’t even know her name. Rising to her feet, she pulled her shirt together. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait.” Denny jumped up. “When you get done, come over to the house. Carol will want to see you. If she wasn’t confined to bed because of the baby—”

“You didn’t call her, did you?” Carol’s pregnancy was already difficult enough. Riley did not want to be the cause of any additional stress for her.

“Not yet. I was waiting until I got home,” Denny said. “Thankfully, she’s not the TV type, so I figured it would be safe to wait until I could be there with her.”

“Don’t tell her. I’m fine. It’s over. Please don’t upset her.”

“You don’t think she’ll be more upset if I don’t tell her? That’s not the way it works when you love someone.”

I wouldn’t know. Riley pushed the pointless thought away. “Okay. Whatever you think is best.” She edged away from him. “I really have to go. I need to check on my patient and see if her family has arrived.” She did not relish that prospect at all. How could she face them, knowing she had almost gotten their loved one killed?

“All right. I’ll go. Come over when you’re done, okay?”

Although the last thing she wanted was to be around anyone, she didn’t want to argue with him either. “Sure. I’ll try.”

As soon as he walked away, she headed for her locker, already pulling off the tattered scrub top.

The beeping of equipment, shuffling of feet as the nurses went about their duties, and the soft murmur of voices filled the recovery room.

Standing next to her patient’s gurney, Riley used the computerized chart in her hands to learn the officer’s name. Samantha Ann McKenna. She traced her finger over the name of the woman who had saved her life. If it weren’t for her, she would be down in the morgue. Riley did not know how to come to terms with that, or if she ever would. Stop it. Don’t think about it. Do your job.

She methodically checked the monitors, IVs, and finally, Samantha’s dressings. Satisfied that all was as it should be, she entered all her post-op orders into the chart and then turned her attention to the woman herself and gazed down at her slack face.

The ghostly pallor of her skin almost matched the color of the pillowcase she rested on. A dark bruise was already forming at her temple. Sutures stood out starkly on her scalp where her short black hair had been shaved off.

With trembling fingers, Riley touched the unblemished side of Samantha’s face. Why did you do it? That question had been running through her mind incessantly. It had not been an accident. Riley could see it in her mind’s eye as if it were happening again—Samantha had stepped purposely into the line of fire. Why? I’m nobody to you.

“Dr. Connolly.”

She started and glanced up to find Holly, one of the recovery room nurses, standing at the foot of the gurney with a curious look. Riley flushed when she realized she had the side of Samantha’s face cupped in her hand, softly stroking her cheek with her thumb. She jerked her hand away as if burned.

“Yes. What is it?” she asked, her tone crisp and professional.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you’d want to know that Officer McKenna’s family is here.”

“Thank you for letting me know.”

Holly puttered with the equipment but kept glancing at Riley. Her lips were pressed together in a firm line. “Dr. McBain went out to talk to them,” she finally blurted.

What? How dare he? In retrospect, Riley realized she should have figured he would do something like that. When he confronted her outside the OR, he had been furious about her doing the surgery and worried about the repercussions. Apparently, he had decided that she shouldn’t have any contact with the family. She stared down at Samantha for a moment. Regardless of what McBain wanted, she had done the surgery and the woman was her patient. She could almost hear her uncle’s voice. Don’t react. Act.

“Thanks, Holly. Once Officer McKenna is ready to be released to the SICU, please make sure she’s sent to radiology for her head CT before she’s taken to the unit.” After one last glance at Samantha, she spun on her heel and headed for the surgical waiting room to face the officer’s family.