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She caught her breath as she heard a moan.
“Vicki?” she said, her voice high and frightened. “Is that you? Are you beneath the cabinet? Answer me!”
Her command was frantic but it elicited only silence. She tried again and got the same answer.
Rocking back on her heels, her gaze taking in more details, Andrea told herself to be calm. There had to be a way to get beneath the mess. She needed to do that first. After a second’s study, she knew what to do. The chest was so big, it’d actually wedged itself against the opposite wall, about three feet up. If she was careful, she could climb over the top and worm her way underneath.
Her mouth dry, her pulse racing, she started forward, pieces of wood and broken glass crunching as she went. One careless move and she could create an even bigger disaster…but she had to get in there and get to Vicki and Kevin. She’d talked to her sister at nine last night. If this had happened right after they’d spoken, they could have been trapped for more than twelve hours!
Andrea inched her way to the place where the cabinet was propped against the stucco. She paused for a second and gathered her composure, then gingerly began to lower herself into the niche between the wall and the cabinet’s side.
She tried not to breathe for fear of dislodging anything. As she slipped down, though, her belt hit the edge of the chest and for one heart-stopping second, everything seemed to groan.
After the debris settled, she tried again, making herself as skinny as possible and easing down—slowly—her back scraping against the rough plaster. If she’d been another inch wider, she wouldn’t have fit.
Once inside the tiny crevice, she tucked herself into a tight ball and balanced on her haunches, leaning to her right to stare past her knees. A single ray of light had managed to pierce the darkness. Her eyes focused and she almost wished they hadn’t.
The first thing she saw was her nephew. He lay motionless on his stomach three feet away, one leg trapped by a shelf, the other caught under one of the doors. Andrea whispered his name and his eyes fluttered open.
She swallowed and said, “Kevin, it’s Aunt Andrea. I’m going to help you, okay? Before we get started, though, I need to know something.” She took a deep breath. “Where’s Mommy, Kevin? Is she behind you? Is she under there with you?”
He didn’t speak. He simply raised one finger and pointed behind him.
Andrea leaned forward and craned her neck. The gloom was thicker where the case rested against the floor and she could see even less than she had before. Squinting hard, she edged another few inches closer and suddenly her sister’s shadowy face emerged.
Andrea called her name. “Vic? Can you hear me? It’s Andrea. Vic?”
Vicki stared back but she didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
She was dead.
CHAPTER TWO
DISBELIEF SLICED through Andrea. As an EMS tech, she’d delivered bad news to a lot of folks and their ability to protest reality had always baffled her. Now she understood their reaction because it was her own. She didn’t want to acknowledge what she saw—she wanted to close her eyes and pretend her sister was alive.
But she couldn’t. She saw far too many dead people in her job for any kind of denial to work.
Her gaze left Vicki’s blank one and returned to the rubble. Shutting out everything else, she evaluated the scene like the professional she was.
From the placement of her sister and Kevin, it appeared as if the case had begun to fall and they’d been in front of it. Vicki had probably tried to warn Kevin because he was slightly turned, but he hadn’t been able to get away. She’d caught the brunt of the weight and it’d taken her down.
A knot formed in Andrea’s throat. Her sister had insisted on hauling the top heavy monstrosity from one place to another every time she’d moved. She’d even paid a fortune to have it fitted with special mounting strips to protect it in case of an earthquake. That was probably what she’d been doing—installing the strip to the studs—when the damn thing had gone over. It didn’t make sense that something that large could tip over, but clearly it had.
Andrea looked at her nephew. His eyes were closed and in the somber light, he seemed dead, too. Except for the smudges on his face, his skin had no color and he hadn’t moved since pointing to his mother. Turning her attention to his trapped legs Andrea tried to gauge the extent of his injuries. Her stomach clenched as she realized the cabinet’s edge had missed him by an inch, an inch that had meant his life.
She stretched her fingers as far as she could, but she couldn’t touch him. “Kevin? You need to wake up now, okay? You have to talk to me and tell me what hurts.”
Vicki’s explanation of his silences rang in Andrea’s mind, but she had to think something this traumatic would jar him to speak.
“Kevin?” She raised her voice. “Kevin, can you hear me?”
His eyelids quivered for a bit, then he opened them and looked at her.
“Talk to me, sweetie,” she pleaded. “Tell me where it hurts. Besides your legs, does it hurt anywhere else?”
He stared at her with a strange kind of intensity and she felt as if he were trying to decide if she was one of the good guys or not. With the distance that had grown between her and Vicki, Andrea hadn’t seen the little boy in more than a year, she realized with a catch. He was only six. Did he even remember her?
“I’m Aunt Andrea…your mommy’s sister. Remember last Christmas? I’m the one who gave you the teddy bear. The little brown one with the black eyes.”
His gaze flickered but he didn’t speak.
“Talk to me,” she whispered. “Please, Kevin…you have to talk to me.”
He stared at her for another long second, then he turned away.
Her frustration swelling, Andrea considered the possibility of moving him on her own, but she dismissed the idea quickly. It was too risky. The piece was too unstable and she didn’t have the right equipment.
She had to have help.
Twisting awkwardly, she slipped her hand down to her waist. Her fingers found only her belt and she moaned in disbelief. Her cell phone wasn’t there. Had she left the damn thing at home? Today of all days?
Then she remembered. When she’d edged in beside the armoire, she’d felt something give. It had to have been the phone’s holster, not her belt, as she’d thought. Patting the floor to her right, she found only bits of wood. Repeating the action on her other side, her hand grazed the holder. She quickly wrapped her fingers around it, scared it might somehow move.
The operator answered before the first ring finished.
“Courage Bay Fire Department. Please state the nature of your emergency.”
“Dispatch, this is Andrea Hunt, PRS, Squad One. I’m 10-7 but I need a unit for a 902 at 1425 Ocean View Drive, Code 3. I have a six-year-old juvenile down, possible broken ankle, possible internal injuries and one…adult…uh…926.”
She stuttered over the radio jargon she’d rattled off countless times, the numbers stalling in her head, cold and harsh. Her big sister and 926, the code for a fatality. They shouldn’t go together.
“Ten-twelve, Officer, while I call for unit.”
Andrea stood by as the dispatcher instructed. She didn’t want to look at Vicki again, but she couldn’t help herself. The light had shifted and she could see more of her sister’s face. It was untouched and exquisitely made up. Andrea guessed the accident had happened earlier that morning, but with Vicki, she couldn’t be sure. All her life, her sister had kept her makeup fresh and perfect, looking as good at midnight as she did first thing in the day.
The operator’s voice pulled Andrea back. “Units en route, Code 3 per your request.”
“Ten-four.” Andrea acknowledged the information then she closed the phone. Before she could decide what to do next, it rang. She answered instantly, an illogical fear swamping her that the noise might somehow cause the armoire to shift.
She answered, her voice shaky. “Hunt speaking.”
“Andie, it’s Alex! We caught the call and we’re on the way. What the hell’s going on? Isn’t 1425 your parents’ old place?”
Alex Shields was the captain of the other rescue squad and a close friend as well. Hearing his voice fueled a rush of relief—unfortunately it also made everything more real.
“It is their house,” she said thickly. “I came over to help my sister unpack. She moved in yesterday, but when I got here, she didn’t come to the door. I went inside and found…found my grandmother’s armoire had fallen over. They’re…they’re trapped beneath it, Alex. Vicki and her son, Kevin.”
“Oh, shit…” Over his curse, she could hear the sirens. “Andie…sweetheart…which one’s the 926?”
“She is.” Andrea swallowed hard then went on. “Kevin is right beside her with both his legs stuck. I hope you’ve got a full crew. We’re going to need it to lift this thing, then we have to get him to the hospital, full code.”
“I’m bringing everyone, don’t worry. Our ETA is five minutes, maybe less. Hang on, we’ll be right there.”
She hit the end key and looked over at her nephew. He had grown even paler. Holding her breath, Andrea scooted as close as she could. Her fingertips brushed his sleeve but he didn’t respond when she called his name. She continued to try and rouse him even though she had the feeling it was pointless.
After a few minutes, he blinked and stared right at her. There were questions in his gaze…but they stayed where they were and remained unspoken.
WHEN SHE HEARD the sirens drawing near, a mix of relief and anxiety washed over Andrea. Courage Bay was not a large town. By this time, everyone at the Bar and Grill probably knew what had happened and it would be only a matter of time until her parents heard, too. She didn’t want them learning the news of their daughter’s death from a stranger but she couldn’t call them now. Her phone had died a second after she had talked to Alex, the tumble from her waist apparently taking its toll.
She considered what their grief would be like, then she pushed the thought away. Getting Kevin out took precedence over everything else, including anyone’s sorrow.
Outside the siren grew louder and louder then ended abruptly, leaving only the rumble of the ladder truck’s engine. When it shut down, a swell of men’s voices replaced the momentary silence, Alex’s deep baritone ringing out above the others. He was in charge of an engine crew of four, a ladder truck crew of five, and the other paramedic rescue squad, which had two members. He was also responsible for all their air rescues. It sounded as if he’d brought every person under his command. The only thing she didn’t hear was the chopper.
Within minutes, they were on the front porch, Alex calling out for her.
“Break down the door,” she cried. “I’m in the living room.”
She gave the motionless Kevin another look, then eased up to stand against the wall. When the team entered and took in the situation, Andrea watched their expressions go from surprise to horror to determination. The Courage Bay Fire Department was comprised of professionals—they could handle anything and everything—but this was clearly something they hadn’t seen before.
With a stunned expression, Rhonda Sutton, Andrea’s partner in the ambulance they operated, lifted her eyes to Andrea’s and slowly shook her head, her dark gaze filling with tears. A tall brunette with six men always at her feet, Rhonda had a reputation for being tough, but Andrea had seen underneath the facade. Rhonda cared deeply about their patients…and even more so for her friends.
Alex put the team into action, Andrea alerting them to Kevin’s location as they planned how best to lift the broken cabinet. It seemed to take forever but in reality, only a few moments passed before they uncovered the little boy. He stared at the faces peering over him, his frightened eyes darting from the men to Andrea, then back again.
Finally able to get close, Andrea took Kevin’s fingers in hers and started to reassure him, but then she found herself distracted. One of the men had brought in a blanket to cover Vicki. When he placed it gently over the still form of her sister, Andrea had to force her gaze back to Kevin’s.
“It’s okay, baby. These…these are the firemen who work in Courage Bay,” she said. “They’re here to help us.”
Tightly gripping her hand, Kevin maintained his silence while they collared his neck and slipped the plastic backboard underneath him.
“You’re very brave.” Andrea walked beside the boy as they carried him out the front door. “I’m proud of you, Kevin. You’re doing a great job!”
With smooth movements they’d made a thousand times, the men loaded the six-year-old into the ambulance and secured the stretcher. Andrea climbed inside and kneeled down. “I’ll be right behind you in my truck, okay? When you get to the hospital, I’ll help them take you out. You aren’t scared, are you?”
He blinked then slowly shook his head. Brushing back a lock of his hair, she kissed his forehead, her throat stinging with tears she quickly swallowed. “That’s great because you have nothing to be afraid of, nothing at all. Five minutes and we’ll be there, all right?” She jumped out and started to close the double doors. A heartbeat before they slammed shut, she thought she heard him say a single word, but she hoped she was mistaken.
She had no idea how to answer when a child cried out for his mother.
GRANT PEELED HIMSELF off the leather seat of his white Impala and kicked the door shut behind him. Crossing the steaming street toward Hollenbeck Park, he lifted his sunglasses and blew his hair off his forehead. The heat was suffocating and had been for days. Demanding his attention like a dog that wouldn’t stop barking, the sun beat insistently down against his neck, making it impossible to ignore. The jacket he’d had on was long gone, shed in the car somewhere between Highway 101 and South Soto.
He took a quick glance around the park as he stepped over the curb. He hadn’t thought to ask Parker where to meet him, but he realized now directions would have been superfluous. A crowd had already gathered at the South Boyle Avenue end of the green area, the usual mixture of old ladies, out-of-work men and kids who had nothing better to do. Grant named them derisively under his breath. They were ghouls, each and every one of them.
If there was a body around, they always showed up.
Having been warned more than once, Grant kept his insensitive label to himself and silently approached the group, removing his notepad and pencil as he walked. A sheet was over the body but the medical examiner lifted it as Grant reached his side. The face beneath the plastic was young. Too young to be so dead.
Standing nearby, Parker wiped his forehead. In his younger years, he’d been a full-back at UCLA. Now he was just plain fat, two-fifty if not more. The crazy heat wave they were having was about to do him in. He waved his hand toward the body. “You know him?”
Grant started to say no, then he kneeled and looked closer. “Yeah,” he said. “I do know him. That’s Tasha McKindrick’s boy. I think they call him Poppy.”
Parker yelled for one of the uniforms while Grant continued to stare. The boy couldn’t have been over ten because his mother was only twenty-four. Grant had arrested her last year for selling drugs. They lived in one of the nearby projects with two younger children but no dad. Grant pulled the cover back over the boy’s face and stood.
His stare lingering on the draped form at his feet, he thought of Kevin.
“What are we doing to our kids?” he muttered under his breath. “For God’s sake, what in the hell are we doing?”
“What are you doing talking to yourself again? You promised me you’d given that up.”
Grant raised his eyes to the woman who’d walked up beside him, her husky voice penetrating the gloomy fog of his thoughts. He hadn’t heard her approach, but that’s how Holly Hitchens did things. She snuck up on you, then pounced. They’d dated before he’d married Vicki and he had the scars to prove it. She was a hell of a cop, though.
“I make a lot of promises I don’t keep.” His eyes met hers and he shrugged. “You know how that goes….”
“I’m afraid I do. You always were lousy in that department, Corbin.” Her answer was pure Holly but her voice sounded strained. Then he realized she wasn’t looking him in the eye. Her gaze was usually so direct it hurt.
“What’s up?” He made his voice casual and ignored the warning bells going off inside his head.
She took a deep breath and met his eyes. For a second he thought he saw pity in her gaze but that didn’t make sense.
“I have some bad news, Grant.”
Her use of his first name threw him even more. She’d always called him Corbin, even when they’d been lovers.
He tensed and she spoke again.
“Division just called looking for you and I told them you were here. They gave me a message to pass on. It’s not good.”
“What is it?” he asked levelly.
“Something’s happened to Vicki. She…had some kind of accident down in Courage Bay.”
“A car wreck?”
“No, it happened at her home, but I don’t have any more details.”
“But she didn’t live in Courage Bay—”
“That’s all they said. That she’d been there, in her house, and something fell on her.”
“Is she okay?”
“No, Grant, she’s not okay.” Holly put her fingers on his sleeve. “I’m sorry, but she’s dead.”
Grant stared dumbly at the redhead, her words incomprehensible. Then something snapped in his hand. He looked down and opened his fist. The pencil he’d been holding was in two pieces.
Holly squeezed his arm. “There’s more.”
As a cop, he’d seen things that would test the strongest stomach but Grant had never been affected. When Holly spoke, though, the ground beneath him shifted.
“Kevin?” he managed to get out.
