by R L Dunn
* * *
Saturday, September 5, 1998
The Iowa cornfields spread all around them from the peak of the Ferris wheel. The annual Labor Day fair below brought the noise, laughter, and smells of apple pie, funnel cakes and corndogs wafting to the teenagers in the carriage. Martin stretched his arm to bring Elizabeth closer to his lanky, seventeen-year-old body.
"Are you going to miss this?" she asked, the sprawl of the fair beneath them.
"I'm going to miss you." Wisps of her long red hair tickled his nose while he kissed her head.
She curled into him. Her blue eyes were so dark, they appeared violet. "Do you promise to write?"
"Of course. The recruiter said we can send a letter home with our address the first week. I have no idea what will be allowed during basic." Strong fingers swiped at a tear. "Sunshine, please don't cry, I’m not leaving until morning."
Elizabeth gave him a brave nod. "I'm sorry. I'm proud of you. I sound so selfish, but I don't want you to go." She entwined her fingers with his as the wheel spun toward the ground. Martin jumped from the car and reached to get her down, her body fitting against his.
The two of them strolled together, listening to politicians hawk themselves like carnival barkers. "Hi, Daddy." Elizabeth embraced Talbot Reed, who was running for governor. A member of the state senate, he was campaigning to move up in the political arena.
"Hi, baby girl." His expression turned to steel when he spotted him. "Marty, when do you leave?"
"Tomorrow morning, sir. My father plans to drive me to Naval Base Great Lakes to start training."
"Keep safe," he said, more out of propriety than caring. His disapproval of Elizabeth's choice for a boyfriend was obvious.
"Thank you, sir."
"Will you be home for dinner, Elizabeth?"
"Daddy, Marty and I are having a picnic for his last night home." She gave her dad's arm a squeeze and grabbed Martin's hand. "C'mon," she dragged Martin into the crowd. "Sorry about Daddy. He's...."
Martin stopped near a booth and took both her hands in his. "Elizabeth, my parents are farmers. My sisters and brother are still in high school. I'm not going to college; I'm joining the Navy. He doesn't think I'm good enough for you."
"I'm not like that." Her face glowed with adoration.
"I never said you were, Sunshine." His lips caressed hers, silky smooth and flavored like strawberries. He was aware only of her.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, and he jumped when the sound of someone clearing his throat broke the spell. "Dad." Martin stepped back from Elizabeth.
"Marty." The look of rebuke on his father's face upset him.
"I'm sorry, sir." Martin held his gaze.
"What are you apologizing for?"
"My public behavior."
Dennis Bailey nodded. "You share your affection in private. Miss Elizabeth is a woman and not a fair prize."
"Yes, sir.” He nodded to his father, and hand in hand, Martin and Elizabeth walked to the parking lot.
He helped her into his pickup truck. "I’m at fault too, Marty. I kissed you back."
"I'm sorry, Sunshine. My dad is right. All about honor and respect. Where to?"
"The pond?" The pond sat on the far edge of the Bailey's land—their private place. The goofy smile he gave her made her heart leap. Martin placed two Adirondack chairs and a small table overlooking an expansive field of flowers on its bank. The sun was almost ready to set when they reached their destination.
After helping Elizabeth to the ground, he lifted the picnic basket she packed for them. "You’re trying to fatten me up." Fried chicken, small containers of coleslaw, potato salad, fruit salad, and biscuits were concealed inside. Also packed was a thermos of sweet tea. Both feasted on the food, topped off with his mom's homemade lemon pie.
Martin rubbed his taut belly. "I'm stuffed."
The sunset, a blaze of orange, yellow, red and pink, revealed a midnight-blue sky where stars were visible for miles. Martin spread a mattress of blankets on his truck bed. Light flickered from the candles Elizabeth brought. They cuddled, talked about dreams, and made wishes.
He rolled to his side, and their lips pressed together, teeth clicking on occasion in the kisses of two inexperienced teenagers. His warm hand slid beneath her silky blouse, finding her full, round breasts. He touched them like they were fragile. Each response to his caresses awed him. Elizabeth never looked away from him, her eyes telling him it felt sweet.
Fingers stumbled opening her shirt, revealing her white cotton bra. Pressing butterfly kisses down her throat and along her collarbone, he watched her reach between her breasts and unlock the front closure. The candlelight illuminated her creamy skin and small, pale pink nipples. He relished silky skin before tugging a nipple between his lips. A mewl escaped from her soft mouth.
Martin grabbed a handful of his t-shirt, pulling it free. An athlete during his high school career and a farmer, he sported defined and hardened muscles. Tanned skin highlighted a thin tuft of blond hair whitened by the summer sun that turned into a line disappearing below his waistband.
"You're so handsome," she told her soon-to-be lover.
Before their lips found each other again, he asked, "You're sure?"
They'd discussed being intimate before but had never gone beyond kissing and petting. Now, with him leaving in the morning, he wanted Elizabeth to be his first—and hoped she felt the same.
"Marty, I want it to be you...." When a flush of embarrassment tinted her cheeks, hungry eyes answered her.
"Of course I want you." Whispers of promise filled his kisses.
Lips pressed against her flat tummy, he opened her shorts and slipped them down her legs, following the denim material with more kisses. Under them, she wore white panties with a tiny pink bow. His tongue sampled her belly button. Still holding her gaze, he nuzzled down her body, which smelled like fresh flowers and her own unique scent.
He worked not to let himself explode against the seam of his jeans as his own excitement built. Her hips rose, giving him access to pull down her panties. A flock of red curls came into view. "Elizabeth, God made you so gorgeous." He took a tentative first taste—salted honey. A happy cry met each tongue swirl.
Exploring her, he used one finger to probe her delicate, wet center. With her hips rocking at every touch, Martin lifted his head to behold her. As her eyes closed, a glow surrounded her. All of a sudden, she stopped breathing for a moment and then cried out his name. His fingers soaked in a gush from her warm core.
Martin opened and slid out of his pants. His shaft strained through his boxer briefs, a few drops of his essence escaping. Fingers fumbled as he pulled the condom from his wallet. Opening it with his teeth, he slid it on. Elizabeth had a blissful smile on her face. Goosebumps erupted on his skin when she ran a finger down his physique.
"You're sure?" He would stop even if it killed him.
"Please." Elizabeth guided him between her thighs with her warm hand. The moment their bodies touched, he trembled. "Don't stop." Her body welcomed him once his tip crested her opening. Eye to eye, he hesitated as he encountered a tightening. When she lifted up and rocked hard against him, he breathed deeply and froze.
"I'm yours, Martin Bailey. Today and always."
A stocky male was smoking a cigarette and speaking on his cell phone. "Sorry, baby, I wanted to leave with you but had to stay. Wonder Doc wants to earn another notch in her belt. You saw what she did today and now this cop. What do you want me to do? This is my job. The man came in dead, shot to smithereens, and she refused to pronounce him. Beth has a God complex. All this time and energy and he'll croak in three days. Of course I reported her. Hillinger is balancing things. Her background raises the hospital profile."
A smoky trail circled his head. "Krystal, I can't. Please, baby, you must understand, if it was my choice, I’d have you by my side in the OR." He took another drag of his cigarette. "Baby, Dufour's kid has a hot appendix. I'm waiting on the labs. He aske
d for me. Maybe he'll throw me a bone if everything turns out well." The tip of the cigarette flamed orange. "I'll try to hurry. Go to sleep, I’ll be home late. We can do something when I wake up. We’ll spend the whole day together." The finished butt crushed under the weight of his foot. "Mmm, I like that idea. Fast as I can. Keep the bed warm."
When he looked up, an angry Martin was standing in front of him.
"Can I help you, buddy?"
"I'm not your buddy. My brother is that guy shot to smithereens."
"Whoa. No offense meant. That was my girlfriend. She’s mad and needy—hates when my work interferes with her life. Gets jealous. Look he's alive, and his surgeon, she's smart. A real looker too. Mmm-mmm. Don't need a cat fight. Can you understand my position? Man to man." Knox gave him a lecherous smile.
Martin observed him from head to toe. Right away, he knew he was lying. The Elizabeth he remembered would never date a man like him. Ah, hell, she married Lewis James.
A second Chase jet landed in Silverton. The head of the DC branch, Tate, carried a duffle over one shoulder leading Bravo team, a level-three protection team, Chase Medical’s chief operations executive, and some of the original founders of Chase Security. The remaining founders were en route from all over the country.
Tighe "Tiger" Cummings, Bravo team’s co-leader, an investigative specialist and charged as the lead on Austin's shooting, assessed the dedicated platoon of men and women. Bravo team’s co-leader Troy "Greece" Bremen stood beside him.
"There are two priorities. First is to find out what the Baileys need. Ford will keep an eye on Martin. The rest of the family must be secure from gawkers and press. Not that I want to, but we need to design a potential funeral plan as well. Next, we need to figure out what happened here. All to be accomplished while making nice with the locals."
Tate stepped forward. "Folks, even though this is a small town, media will be relentless. Remain professional as always. Refer anyone to me at my secondary number. I'll deal with all requests for information until Mike arrives. Thank you all." The sound of closing car doors confirmed the orders were received and being followed.
The location of the shooting was a long irrigation ditch running beside a two-lane road. Silverton Police had blocked the road in both directions. Tighe headed toward two men standing just inside the east barricade with his badge in his left hand and his right hand extended. "Tighe Cummings, Homeland. How are you gentlemen doing tonight?"
Both men directed their disdain in Tighe's direction. "Brian Riggs and Wilbur Blake. We were told to hold the scene for you. Don't expect you to uncover anything more than we did. Ambulance found Austin about eight hundred feet that way."
"Well, we would like to take a peek around. Austin's brother is our boss. Don't want to upset him more. Appease the family."
That seemed to relax them. "Sure thing. Danny Logan is in charge; he and Paul Young are at the hospital. Now that you boys are here, we want to head over there." Riggs and Blake walked them down the culvert. "This is where Austin was discovered." Bravo team members began shooting still pictures and videotaping the scene. Others started a grid search of the area.
"Where was the child found?" one member asked.
Wilbur Blake paused in his tracks. "Who told you about that?"
Tighe turned on his heel to face the detective. "Hear me now, we’re not interested in playing games. Let's work together toward a common goal, but if our inquiry is stonewalled at every question, I have zero issues leaving your department in the dust and seizing complete control of this investigation. Where was the child found? Austin requested an ambulance for an injured man. Did you find any sign of him?"
Riggs pointed. "The child was discovered another four hundred yards that way. There was no evidence of another injured party."
"Were there any brass casings left behind? Take soil samples?" Janice asked.
"Little lady, we got a shot cop," Blake said.
Tighe gave Janice a discreet hand signal to stand down. "Did Austin draw his gun?"
Blake answered, "I'm not sure.”
"Where's his weapon?" Caleb asked.
"I assume it was secured," Riggs said.
"Detective, I would appreciate it if you would share the information about the original crime and what you found here with Investigators Paulsen and Fitz before you leave." Tighe's pitch was clipped and formal.
"We'll leave you to your work. C'mon, boys." Caleb arched his brow, and he and Janice followed.
Caleb punched her shoulder. "Little lady, after you."
"Enough, everyone," Tighe's tone warned. "Obtain pictures and samples of dirt. Another victim here should've left blood."
With the detectives gone, the team, flashlights arcing the path, walked down the road. Areas to collect samples from were flagged. Two more of Bravo team’s investigators knelt beside the area where the girl was found, heads lowered, contemplating the blood-soaked ground. "What happened to her?" One scooped up some of the dirt into an evidence bag.
"Not going to guess. Let's wait on what SPD gives us. Walk the field for potential evidence and check the roadway for tire tracks. Maintain the road closure," Tighe said, "Tomorrow, we come back with Zach at first light and do it again."
Chapter Five
Wednesday, July 10th
"Thank you, everyone. Good work." Elizabeth walked toward Austin's head. "Fight hard, Austin." She touched his cheek and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer. "Warren, Pietra, would you make the original ECMO checklist and send blood before you hand him off to the ICU?" She patted Steven's back and headed toward the doors. "Go home."
The woman staring back at her in the locker room mirror had dark rings underlining her eyes, but the present fright bothered her more. The thought of seeing Martin Bailey again shook her to the core.
A muted hum echoed beside her while approaching the family. Escorted by Connor Caine, a surgical fellow, Elizabeth pressed her tired shoulders back as she entered. Reverend Harold Brookfield was praying with Austin's family and friends.
As apprehensive faces turned toward her, she felt Martin's presence behind her right away. A pregnant woman stood, wrapped in the loving embrace of Dennis Bailey. "I'm Dr. Beth Reed. Austin is out of surgery and will be moved to the intensive care unit soon. Please sit, Mrs. Bailey."
"Tell me, is Austin going to survive?" Janey's voice was shaky, and tears fell from her eyes.
Connor handed her a tissue before Elizabeth took Janey's hand between hers. "That is our goal. He arrived here with no pulse caused by heavy bleeding. A collaboration of physicians performed our assessment and took some drastic measures. Three gunshots missed his vest." Her fingers pointed to the areas of entry. "A bullet in the human body is like a ball in a pinball machine. The bullets did significant damage to many of his organs, but the bleeding is stopped now. The next hurdle is to help his adjustment to the effects of the shock. This is Dr. Caine. He will stay with Austin through the morning."
"Can I visit him?" Janey dabbed at her eyes.
"Yes. How soon is the little one due?"
"Three weeks." Janey wiped her nose.
."The baby needs to stay put. Let us be responsible for Austin's health, and you protect your baby." Elizabeth let go of Janey's hand. "Austin is swollen. A lot of tubes and wires make things scarier. A device called ECMO—it stands for Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation—is giving his injured lungs a rest. On the positive side, Austin's heart appears undamaged. Once he's settled, we will initiate dialysis to help his kidneys do their job. Specialized blankets and fluids are keeping him cold—the chemical reactions of the body slow down. The lowered temperature also lessens inflammation in the brain. Here is my card with my personal cell phone number on the back." She rose, helping the much taller Janey to her feet.
A man she didn't recognize stood. "Dr. Reed, my name is Pete Walter. I am the chief operations executive for Chase Medical and a physician assistant. The Bailey family asked me to be the liaison for Austin. Would you mind if
we met tomorrow for a thorough discussion? This was a long surgery."
"Thank you for understanding. Not a problem—if Mrs. Bailey agrees?" Janey nodded. "Call my secretary in the morning to make an appointment. The immediate family and Mr. Walter can come with me to be with Austin." The encouraging trail of friends and fellow cops formed a cortège as they walked to the recovery room. "Once inside, keep it to just two at a time at his side, please."
"You always wanted to be a doctor." The baritone voice from her dreams spoke to her.
She turned to face him. "Hello, Marty. I'm sorry about Austin." Pleased she sounded strong, she continued, "I did my best."
The boy she adored was now a striking, handsome man. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her empty stomach knotted, threatening to weaken her knees further.
"I hope so, after what you did." His eyes turned cold.
"Tomorrow, my partner, Steven Keys, can take over," she offered, accompanied by a haggard breath.
Fay Bailey approached before her son said more. "Martin, decisions can be made with Pete in the morning. Dr. Reed just spent ten hours operating on Austin."
Gone was the sweetness she remembered from long ago. It was replaced by a cold indifference from what she did. "Fine, Mom."
"Dr. Reed, they're ready for us upstairs," Connor said.
“Please, everyone, try to rest. The next seventy-two hours will tell us more. Doctor Caine will contact you if anything changes."
At two AM, she left the eighteenth floor with her breath squeezed from her chest. She punched the illuminated elevator button with frustration. She needed to go to her office, get her purse and leave the building.
The artfully furnished 1930s-era stone home was bathed in her headlights fifteen minutes later. It wasn’t anything like the museum she grew up in or the home she shared with Lewis those few months, nor the many camps and tents she lived in working overseas; this was her safe place. Her choices.