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“I’m here, sweetie.” Jackie was pulling herself together now that she could talk to her daughter. Nicole calmed down more as her mother did. “Is David okay?”
“Can you hold this for me, hon?” Caroline handed little Nicole a green tag. Someone else would check her out more thoroughly, but for right now, the girl didn’t seem to need more medical attention. “Nicole seems fine, Jackie. I’m going to check on baby David now.”
Baby David hadn’t made a sound the whole time. Caroline’s heart caught in her chest as she ran around the car to his side.
The baby, not older than six months, lay silently in his rear-facing car seat as Caroline pried open the door. As she reached over to check the baby’s pulse, she could hear Jackie’s ragged, terrified breathing.
She couldn’t see any blood or noticeable injuries, but he didn’t move at all at her touch. Caroline sent up a silent prayer that the child was alive. With babies, everything was tricky, since they were unable to communicate.
She found his pulse at the exact moment little David opened his eyes. He studied Caroline intently before taking his thumb and jamming it in his mouth, sucking on it.
“He’s okay, Jackie. He’s sucking his thumb.” She reached over David and squeezed Jackie’s shoulder. “I can’t say for certain that he is injury free, but he’s alive and he’s alert.” Caroline laid a yellow tag on baby David. He probably could be green-tagged, but with a baby she’d rather be safe than sorry. Someone would still need to check him more thoroughly.
“Jackie, you saved your kids’ lives by having them properly restrained in their car seats. You did great. I have to check on others, so I need you to keep it together. Help will be back again soon.”
Caroline didn’t wait to hear any response. She rushed to the next victim. By the time other sirens approached a few minutes later, she had evaluated many victims.
Two were dead. At least two with severe injuries. A half dozen more with minor injuries that would require attention.
And a drunken jackass, still yelling, with a dislocated pinkie.
That first dead guy she’d come across had a couple of children’s dolls in the back seat of his car. Somebody’s dad was never coming home again. Yet a drunk driver who’d never even known he was driving the wrong way down a highway was going to be just fine.
Sometimes the world just wasn’t fair. Caroline knew that much better than most by what had happened to her nearly two years ago.
This just reaffirmed it.
It was going to be a long, hard day.
* * *
TWELVE HOURS LATER, shift finished, having showered and changed at the hospital, Caroline made it home.
Except, it wasn’t exactly home, was it?
It was the fourth place she’d lived in eighteen months, the place she’d moved into six weeks ago, but it wasn’t home.
How could you call a place home when every time someone knocked on your front door it sent you into a panic?
Caroline stood in her driveway, looking up at her town house’s entrance, duffel bag swung over her shoulder, unable to go any farther. It had been the longest, professionally worst day she’d had in a long time. Her body was exhausted from the physical exertion of moving patients, administering CPR and going to one call after another today because of the fog. Her emotions were exhausted as the death toll had risen each hour.
By all means, she should go inside her house, fall into bed and be asleep before her head hit the pillow. Despite the deaths that couldn’t be avoided, Caroline and the other paramedics had done good work. Had helped make sure the death count hadn’t risen any further than it had. She should rest now. She deserved it.
But she couldn’t seem to force her legs to move any closer to her empty house.
She knew she could call one of the officers over from the Corpus Christi Police Department to come walk through her town house for her. They would understand, and someone would come immediately.
Although not the person she really wanted—really needed—to be here. He wasn’t part of the police force any longer. Zane Wales had hung up his white hat—literally and figuratively—the day they’d found Caroline raped and nearly beaten to death in her own home. The last victim of a serial rapist.
Caroline looked at her town house again, still unable to force herself to walk any closer.
What would Dr. Parker say? Caroline had been uncomfortable talking to a psychiatrist here in Corpus Christi, so her friend Sherry had convinced her to speak—just once—to the Omega Sector psychiatrist over the phone. That “just once” had then turned into talking to Dr. Parker every couple of weeks.
If Caroline called Grace Parker right now—and she had no doubt Grace would take the call—would Grace tell Caroline there was nothing to fear? To just put one foot in front of the other?
No, she would tell Caroline that only Caroline could determine what would be the best thing to do. That pushing herself too far did more damage than it did good.
Her phone buzzed in her hand and she looked down to read the text.
How do you look in the mirror knowing your lies?
She rolled her eyes. Another one? This was getting out of hand. Caroline wasn’t big on smartphones in general, so she didn’t do a lot with hers. But she had to see if there was a way to block these texts.
The text was almost enough to distract her from her fear of entering the house. She took a step forward, then stopped, wiping her hand across her face.
She couldn’t go in right now.
The thought frustrated her, but she let it go. It was okay. She would go to the Silver Eagle, a bar in town, and relax for a little while. A lot of the law enforcement and EMT gang hung out there. She could have a drink or a bite to eat or just chat. Get someone to show her how to block the annoying texts. When she was done, maybe she’d be more ready to face the big scary front door.
Once the decision was made, she didn’t second-guess her choice, just jogged back to her truck, throwing her duffel in the passenger seat beside her. The ride to the bar didn’t take long and she knew she’d made the right decision when she pulled into the lot.
Kimmie’s little VW Beetle was parked here and almost every spot was full. Caroline would chat and unwind for an hour or two. She would face her town house when she was ready.
It had been a bad day. This would hopefully make it better.
She grabbed her purse, got out of the truck and made her way inside. The familiar smell of beer and fried food assailed her, as did the country music pouring at a perfect volume from the speakers. She smiled at Kimmie, who waved for Caroline to come join the people at her table.
Maybe being here wouldn’t make her fears back at the town house just disappear, but nothing could make this day worse.
She glanced over at the bar as she walked toward Kimmie and almost stumbled as she found her gaze trapped by the brown eyes of Zane Wales. Compelling her, drawing her in, as always. She forced herself to look away from him.
Her day definitely just got worse.
Chapter Two (#uf1013233-bc21-5782-ba30-641a26ae6dc7)
Zane Wales didn’t come into the Silver Eagle very often. A lot of law enforcement guys hung out there, and generally Zane didn’t need a reminder of what he no longer did for a living.
But today had been a long, weird day and Zane had found himself here an hour ago, rather than going straight back to his house on the outskirts of Corpus Christi. Just for a beer, a bite to eat. Hoping maybe none of the detective force would even be here.
They were all here.
If he could back out without any of them seeing him, he would’ve. But Captain Harris, along with Wade Ammons and Raymond Stone, both detectives Zane had worked with when he’d been on the force, waved him over to the bar where they sat as soon as they saw him.
Zane liked all three of the men—he really did. He chatted with them for a while before Wade and Raymond saw some ladies who interested them and said their goodbyes.
“How’s the private aircraft charter business treating you?” Captain Harris asked as he took a sip of his beer.
Zane chewed a bite of the burger he’d ordered. “Today was different than most. A little crazy.”
“How so?”
“Fog was causing problems up and down the interstate, so I got called for an emergency organ donation delivery. A heart. Flew it into Houston.”
The entire flight had been tense—a very real deadline looming in front of them. Zane hadn’t been sure if the deadline was because of the patient waiting for the heart or if the heart itself was only viable for so long. The two-person organ donation team flying with him hadn’t said. They’d just told him the deadline.
Zane had gotten them there. Not much time to spare, but enough. He hoped the surgery had been successful.
“Yeah, fog was hell around here for us too this morning. Multicar pileup with a drunk driver. Half dozen other accidents that took up all our resources. Hell, even Wade and Raymond were out helping today.”
That would’ve meant Caroline had a hard day. Not that he could do anything about that. Moreover, not that she would want him to do anything about that.
“Must have been a mess if you had to pull in Wade and Raymond.”
“Sounds like your day was equally exciting. Heart transplant. Important stuff. I’ll bet you miss that on a daily basis when you’re carting around cargo or rich people from place to place.”
“Don’t start, Tim.” Zane already knew what was coming. A conversation they’d had more than once in the seventeen months and six days since Zane had quit the department.
“Son, I’ve known you since you were in elementary school. I had no hesitation at all about hiring you straight out of college or promoting you to detective, even after the trouble you got into in your younger years.”
Evidently the man wouldn’t be deterred. Zane raised his beer slightly in salute. “I know. And I appreciate it. High school was tough after Dad died.”
“You can’t tell me that running your air charter business means as much to you as chasing down criminals did.”
Captain Harris was right; Zane couldn’t say that with any sort of honesty. He enjoyed his business, loved to fly, loved working for himself, but it didn’t challenge him the way working for the force had. Didn’t challenge him nearly as much mentally or physically.
But Zane had lost his edge. Lost what had made him a good cop the day Caroline was attacked.
“I don’t have it anymore, Tim. Don’t have what it takes.”
Captain Harris scoffed. “Don’t have what, exactly? You’re still in just as good a shape. I know you have a permit for that concealed Glock you’re carrying.”
Zane didn’t ask how the older man knew that. But he was right. Zane had never stopped carrying the gun, even after he’d quit the force. He just now had a different permit for it.
“I’ll bet you have just as much practice on it and have aim just as precise as you did when you worked for me.”
Zane shrugged one shoulder as he took a sip of his beer. “Just because I can hit what I’m aiming for doesn’t mean I’m good as a law enforcement officer, Cap.”
“Just because someone you care about got hurt doesn’t mean you’re not one,” the captain shot back.
Caroline had been so much more than hurt.
“The rapist was right under my nose the whole time.” Zane pushed his plate away, no longer interested in his last bites of food. “I shook the man’s hand multiple times.”
“Dr. Trumpold fooled us all,” the captain reminded him. “Including that Omega Sector agent who came here to help us.”
Zane just shrugged. “Jon Hatton did everything he could.” But in this case, being part of an elite law enforcement agency like Omega hadn’t been enough, either.
“And,” the captain continued, “if I recall correctly, if you hadn’t followed your instincts and gone after Hatton and Sherry Mitchell, Trumpold would’ve killed them both. That it was your bullet that put a stop to him.”
Yes, Zane had stopped Trumpold. And hadn’t lost a bit of sleep when he’d died in prison a year ago.
But that still didn’t change one simple fact: Caroline Gill had opened the door to a rapist because she’d thought the knock on her door was Zane. Because Zane was supposed to be with her that night.
But he’d changed his mind at the last minute, wanting for once to have the upper hand in their tumultuous relationship. Stayed away as part of the head games the two of them played with each other all the time.
He would regret that decision for the rest of his life.
“If it had happened to someone else, you wouldn’t blame them, Zane,” Captain Harris continued. “Why are you holding yourself to a different standard?”
“It’s not about standards. It’s about my instincts. I can’t trust mine anymore. And I won’t put anybody else at risk.”
“Zane, you need to—”
Harris stopped talking as the door to the bar opened and they both—engrained law enforcement instincts kicking in—looked toward it.
Caroline.
Zane hadn’t seen her in a few months. They’d run into each other at a restaurant, a totally awkward exchange where they’d both been on dates, and their dates had both known Zane and Caroline used to be together. They’d said uncomfortable hellos and then spent the rest of the night trying not to notice each other.
Now Zane stared at her from where he sat, as always almost physically incapable of not looking at her. Taking in her long brown hair, pulled back in a braid like it so often was. The curve of her trim body filling out the jeans and fitted sweater she wore. His body responded, as it always had, wholly aware of her anytime she was around, in a completely carnal way.
What sort of pervert did that make him? Looking at Caroline—a rape survivor—with blatant sexuality all but coursing through him?
Just reinforced his decision to get out of law enforcement altogether. His instincts weren’t to be trusted.
He knew the exact second she saw him, the slight hesitation in her step, but her gaze didn’t falter. She didn’t smile at him, but then again, he didn’t expect her to.
Of course, he had to admit, even before the attack she hadn’t always smiled at him. That was how their relationship had been: fire or ice. Never anything in between.
A friend called out to Caroline and she broke eye contact with him and headed in the caller’s direction. Zane felt oddly bereft without the connection with Caroline.
He should’ve never come here in the first place.
He was about to ask for and pay the bill when Wade and Raymond came back over to sit with him and Captain Harris again. Raymond ordered them all another round before Zane could stop him.
“What happened to your lady friends?” Captain Harris asked.
“Married,” Wade and Raymond both said at the same time, crestfallen.
“I might go talk to Kimmie.” Raymond took a sip of the beer the bartender handed him.
Wade rolled his eyes. “Hasn’t she shut you down enough times already?”
“Yeah, but she looks happier now. Especially since Caroline’s here.” Both men looked over at Zane as if they’d said something wrong.
“I wasn’t going to hit on Caroline, man,” Raymond was quick to announce.
He damn well better not.
