by Alison Stone
The doorbell rang, and the man’s head snapped up and found Jimmy. “You expecting someone?” His jaw gritted and his fist came up. “So help me...” He reached for the gun.
“No, no,” Jimmy said, obviously agitated. “Ralphie, you have to believe me. I didn’t tell anyone where we were.”
So, this is Ralphie.
Ralphie raised a skeptical eyebrow at Jimmy. He pulled back the curtain and waved his gun at them behind his back. “Keep your mouths shut.” The man yanked open the door. “What?”
“I was looking for Jimmy. He told me I could stop by for...” The man outside coughed. “Man, maybe I have the wrong house.”
A concerned expression pinched Jimmy’s features as he watched the front door. Just then the man who had knocked on the door exploded through the opening and shoved Ralphie against the wall. Ralphie’s gun dropped with a clatter. Another officer swept in and grabbed Ralphie and rushed him out of the house. Jimmy snagged the gun and grabbed Bridget’s ponytail—ugh, her ponytail—and pulled her head back before the remaining officer had a chance to get her to safety.
“Please,” she pleaded. “Let me go!”
Another crash sounded from the back of the house. Jimmy turned 180, his eyes wide.
Jimmy lifted the gun to her temple. He pivoted and put her body between him and whoever was coming through the back door. He swung around to face the other officer near the front door.
Help me, Lord.
Zach burst into the tight quarters with his gun drawn. Bridget’s relief was tempered by the forearm cutting off her airflow and the cool barrel of a gun pressed into her temple.
“Step away before I take off your head,” Zach growled.
Jimmy tightened his hold around Bridget’s neck. “No way.”
Zach nodded to the other officer, who quietly backed out the front door. “It’s just you and me. Let her go.”
Had all her decisions—to turn her back on the Ordnung, to leave her family, to get an education against her father’s wishes—led to this?
* * *
Zach trained his gun on the punk who held Bridget. Her eyes radiated her panic as she clawed at the arm around her neck. His pulse deafened him at the thought of Bridget being hurt. Or worse.
“Let her go,” he commanded. He continued his slow and steady advance.
The kid’s eyes flared wide and moved rapidly. “Stay back or I’m going to kill her.”
“No one’s gonna die today,” Zach reasoned, holding one hand out and the other on his gun carefully trained on the kid’s head. “If anything happens to either of these women, I think your boss, who’s currently getting tucked into the back seat of a police cruiser, will be more than interested to hear how you cooperated in this investigation. How you led the DEA right to his doorstep.”
Jimmy’s head swiveled as if on a stick. “I did not. I did not.”
Zach shrugged casually, cautiously ratcheting up the kid’s paranoia.
“If you put that information out there, I’m as good as dead,” the kid said, his expression anguished.
Zach made eye contact with Bridget. She struggled to loosen the grip around her neck. Her face had grown red. Zach nodded ever so slightly, indicating that she needed to trust him. She blinked slowly in acknowledgment.
“Let her go now or there’s no negotiating.” Zach inched closer.
“They’ll get to me in prison. Ralphie’s got people everywhere.” The kid’s complexion had grown a deathly white. Like they got to the doctor.
“Let her go and maybe I can arrange witness protection. Keep you safe.”
The kid’s gaze slid to Zach’s. The slight arch of his brow suggested he might be considering it.
“Come on,” Zach coaxed, taking another step closer. “This is your last chance. Come on.” He held out his palm for the gun, and that was the final encouragement the kid needed. His shoulders sagged, and he handed over his gun. In Jimmy’s last act of defiance, he pushed Bridget toward him. Zach caught her, careful to hold the guns away from her. “I got you. Are you okay?”
Bridget rubbed her throat and nodded.
Zach gently sat her down on the couch, nearly tripping over the young woman on the floor. Jimmy plowed through the kitchen chairs on the way toward the back of the house.
“Give me your phone. I have to call an ambulance. And you need to go catch him,” Bridget said, her voice raspy.
He tucked a strand of Bridget’s hair behind her ear, knowing there was an officer guarding the back door. “I’ll be right back.” He straightened and strolled toward the back of the house. In the overgrown yard, he found Jimmy facedown on the driveway. Zach’s friend Officer Freddy Mack was taking him into custody.
“You looking for this guy?” Freddy stood and yanked up the kid by the handcuffs. His head lolled forward in complete defeat.
“Thanks for covering the back.”
Freddy gave him a subtle nod. The law enforcement agencies had worked well together to combat the drug trade. “I’ll take this guy in.”
“Thanks.” Zach turned toward the house. The green paint had bubbled and peeled. An ambulance sounded in the distance. “I’ll meet you downtown.” Zach rushed into the house, anxious to see Bridget, to convince himself that she really was okay. Already the self-recriminations were pinging in his brain. He never should have left her alone in Hickory Lane. She could have been killed.
Back in the house, he found Bridget kneeling on the floor next to the unconscious girl, checking her vitals. A few minutes later, the paramedics bumped their stretcher through the small entryway. Zach crouched down next to Bridget. “Come on,” he whispered. “The paramedics are here. You’ve done everything you can. And I’m going to drive you to the ER myself. Tell me what hurts.”
A faraway look glistened in her eyes. He placed his hand on her back and helped her stand. “Come on.” He guided her toward the door. Her attention drifted back toward the girl. “Her name’s Heather. That’s all I know. She injected the drugs from that kit on the couch. Her pulse is thready. She was vomiting.”
One of the paramedics nodded. “We’ll take good care of her.” He set his medical kit down next to the young woman and began working on her.
Zach led Bridget outside to his truck. She spun around to face him. “Liddie! Is she okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine. She’s home.”
Her eyes turned watery with relief. “So, you got my texts?”
“Yes.” He planted a kiss on the crown of her head, then pulled back to meet her gaze. “You’re one smart woman.”
A smile slanted her pretty pink lips.
He gave himself a mental shake. He had to make sure she was okay. “Come here.” He opened the passenger door of his truck and had her sit down. He cupped her face with his hand, examining her tender cheek. The skin under one eye was bruised. “What did he do to you?” He found himself holding his breath, fearful of what had happened when he couldn’t protect her.
Bridget told him how Liddie had been in contact with Jimmy, ultimately leading him to her. How he stuffed her into the trunk and drove her here. How he tied her to the radiator and only let her go to help the girl who had overdosed. Bridget struck him as both calm and relieved. She was one impressive woman.
“Let’s get you to the hospital.” Zach’s gaze traveled the length of her. “I should have been there for you.”
She blinked a few times, then smiled up at him. “You were.” She reached out and grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him close. “You were.” She stretched up and kissed him. The warmth of her lips, the smell of her skin, her solid presence soothed the adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins.
Thank You, Lord.
When had he ever said a prayer in gratitude? Inwardly he smiled. Bridget had influenced him in more ways than one.
* * *
The fresh breeze cooled Bridget’s fiery cheeks as she swung her legs again into the vehicle. Her fingers brushed across her lips, surprised at her boldness. He smiled at her again. “We should get you to the hospital,” he said, resting his strong hand on her knee.
“I’m fine. Really.” She rubbed her raw wrists.
“I’d feel better if you were examined by a doctor.”
Bridget smiled and reached up for the seat belt. Oh, she was going to be sore tomorrow.
Tomorrow. Did all this mean that tomorrow her life would go back to normal? Just like that? Doubt niggled at her.
Zach stepped back to close the door when he paused and said, “What’s that look for?”
“I was thinking. Does this mean I can go back to my normal life?” Where would she stay? Would she be able to catch up with her classes? What about her family? She rubbed her forehead, holding back the myriad of questions. After all, they weren’t Zach’s problems. He was officially off the hook. The bad guys had been arrested, and she was still on this side of heaven.
“I don’t see why not. We’ll want to make sure there’s no lingering players still running around...” he nodded as if convincing himself “...yeah, you can go back to your life.”
“I’ll have to find a place to live.” Bridget lifted her hand. “I’ll figure it out. I always have.”
Something flashed in the depths of his eyes, and he opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “You ready?”
“I’ll need to get my stuff and say goodbye to my family and friends in Hickory Lane, too.” She couldn’t slip away in the dead of night this time.
“Of course. I can take you back after you’re checked out at the hospital. I’m sure one of the police officers can take your statement while we’re there.”
Bridget crossed her arms and shivered. The air had grown chilly. “I can’t deal with my family tonight.”
“Whatever you need.”
“Maybe I could find a cheap motel?” She ran her pinkie over the tender skin under her eye.
“I have a better idea.”
“Oh?” Her stomach pitched.
“My mother’s house is a few blocks away. I don’t think she’d mind putting you up.”
Bridget frowned. “I thought you were estranged. I don’t want to cause any problems.”
“I stopped by her house.” He seemed to be considering something. “I think she wouldn’t mind.” One shoulder tipped up slightly. “Can’t hurt to ask.”
“If you think she wouldn’t mind.” She rubbed her palms on her jeans.
He tilted his head. “Should we go?”
Before she had a chance to reply, their attention was drawn to the paramedics carrying out Heather on a stretcher. “Hold on.” Bridget released the seat belt and scooted out of the truck, brushed by Zach and walked gingerly over to the back of the ambulance. Heather had on an oxygen mask, and her eyes were open. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Yeah. This time.” The paramedic’s resigned tone suggested he had seen it all. The girl would recover tonight, but what about the next time? Unfortunately, that’s all the assurance he could give Bridget.
She met Heather’s gaze for a brief moment before the doors slammed shut and the driver rushed past her. Bridget stared after the ambulance as it pulled out of the driveway without lights or sirens. Perhaps Heather was going to be okay. And maybe Bridget had played a small role in that.
“You ready?” Zach said, placing his hand on the small of her back.
Bridget took comfort in his touch as they made their way back to the truck. A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk across the street, gawking at the excitement on Lisbon Avenue. People were fascinated by other people’s misery. People’s lives ruined because of their drug addiction. Tragedy narrowly avoided. Cautionary tales?
Any doubt that Bridget had made the wrong decision to report the illegal drug activity at the clinic that, in turn, had upended her life had disappeared the moment the ambulance doors had slammed shut. She could never sit idly by.
Bridget exhaled sharply. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
EPILOGUE
Nine months later
Downstairs among all the other graduates at University at Buffalo’s Alumni Arena, Bridget straightened her mortarboard and her shoulders. She’d made it. She had actually made it.
It had taken a few weeks to catch up on her fall classes, but her professors were supportive. Her living situation had worked out well, too. Zach’s friend Freddy Mack and his wife, Jess, had allowed her to rent a room in their home. Since both of them were Buffalo police officers, Bridget felt safe. Now, nine months later, it seemed any repercussions from her involvement in the fraud investigation at the clinic had truly blown over. Both Jimmy and Ralphie would be spending the foreseeable future in prison for their roles in the drug trade, Ashley’s death and the near misses on Bridget’s life. And sadly, Dr. Seth Ryan had lost his life over his part.
So many lives ruined.
Last Bridget heard, Heather had successfully finished rehab and Bridget prayed the young woman from the stash house stayed sober. Any of Bridget’s efforts to reach out to the Ryan family had been met by silence. Hopefully, the doctor’s son had given up gambling and could live with the horrible consequences of his actions.
Fortunately for the residents of one corner of the Buffalo community, the health-care clinic had reopened under a small group of physicians who rotated through. Bridget had felt great relief at that. Maybe she’d volunteer her time there—or at another clinic that served those most in need—once she got settled in her new nursing career. She still kept kicking around the idea of continuing her studies. Maybe become a nurse practitioner.
Excitement bubbled to the surface at all the possibilities.
A girl approached her. “Are these the Ms?” The graduates were lined up alphabetically.
“Yes, I’m Miller.”
“Oh, good. Milliken here.” The girl tugged on her honors rope and stepped into line behind Bridget, who found herself scanning the line of graduates ahead of her. Her friend Ashley Meadows should have been somewhere in front of her... She shook away the thought. Poor Ashley.
The graduation coordinator clapped her hands above the din to get their attention. The soon-to-be alumni quieted down, and the graduates began the procession up the stairs to the auditorium.
* * *
Zach met the passenger van in the loop outside the arena. He had told Bridget he’d do his best to attend her graduation, cautioning her that he might get stuck at work. He had been busy in yet another undercover assignment, but he wouldn’t miss this day for the world.
Over the past school year, he and Bridget had grown close, squeezing in dates between schoolwork and undercover assignments. They filled the time between with texts. They kept talk of the future to a minimum, fearing his undercover work would never allow for a normal life.
The past nine months had changed him in ways he never imagined. He had fallen hard for the beautiful woman from Hickory Lane, and he suspected—no, he prayed—the feeling was mutual.
The van driver slowed, and Zach waved. The man tipped his chin and pulled over beyond the blue crosswalk. The side door popped open, and Bridget’s family climbed out: Liddie, Elijah, Caleb, Jeremiah, Mae and Amos. Bridget’s father had been especially hard to convince to attend his daughter’s graduation. Zach had a feeling her grandfather Jeremiah had had a hand in his presence.
Zach enjoyed watching Caleb and Elijah take in the campus with slack-jawed expressions under their felt hats.
“Well,” Zach said, holding out his hand toward the arena, “the ceremony is about to start. We better go in.”
Zach ushered them into the arena to curious glances. When a recording of “Pomp and Circumstance” sounded over the speakers, the audience shifted their attention to the processing graduates, hoping to spot their
loved ones.
Bridget’s parents sat quietly while Caleb and Elijah pointed out things and discussed them between themselves. Liddie leaned over to Zach and asked if he thought she should go to college. Zach smiled, not daring to cause any waves. On the other side of him, Jeremiah whispered, “Thanks for inviting us.”
“Thanks for convincing everyone to come.”
Jeremiah nodded.
After Bridget walked across the stage and made it back to her seat—Zach was able to watch her from the nosebleeds—he texted her with a bunch of celebratory emojis. Then he typed, You did it! Congrats!
Three dots appeared on the screen. You’re here! Then more bubbles. I can’t believe you spotted me in this crowd.
He tapped away with his thumbs. How could I miss this? You were easy to spot. You’re the most beautiful graduate here!
She responded with an “aw shucks” GIF.
He laughed and texted one more time: Meet me outside by the buffalo after the ceremony.
When the recessional music started, excitement coursed through Zach’s veins. He patted his suit coat pocket and squared his shoulders.
The audience spilled out into the aisles. Bridget’s father’s face grew pinched under the shadow of his felt hat. “We can wait a minute until the crowd clears,” Zach suggested.
Mae smiled her agreement and patted her husband’s arm.
Caleb and Elijah looked like they wanted to hop out of their seats and go exploring. Zach couldn’t blame them. Liddie seemed to be taking everything in. He had a hard time reading her. On the one hand, she seemed like the dutiful daughter, but on the other, she seemed to be ready to push the boundaries. Zach supposed that children growing into adults often pushed boundaries, no matter what the culture.
Last year, when he had taken Bridget home to collect her things, he sensed Amos’s displeasure with both his daughters. Bridget for her plans to leave again and toward Liddie, perhaps for having kept in communication with Jimmy. Zach hoped they could work it out. He knew the strain of harboring resentment toward a love one.