by Angi Morgan
“It’s me,” he said as he pushed open the rusty gate.
His partner and responsibility sat on the porch swing. The familiar smell of citronella circled the porch in the cool lake air.
“If they reported the truck at the school, then Sean and the Sergeant Major may already be in custody,” she said.
Straight to it, no “howdy do” or “what did you talk about?” She needed to stop being distracted by the uncontrollable. So did he. All he could focus on was the fullness of her lips tossing him to a place where he wanted to kiss instead of lecture.
“I told your dad to watch his back.” He handed her the prepaid cell Thrumburt had purchased. “Give ’em a call. Before you do though, I…um…”
She quirked her brow at him, tempting him to kiss her and give into his wants. She dropped the cell next to her on the cushion, drawing attention to her long, creamy legs. He was one thought away from where he’d stored the “supplies.”
He chose to sit facing away from the swing, almost falling through the worn-out lawn chair. The old thing should have been tossed years ago, but Pike had left it in its place. Waiting. He’d never met Walter here. The possessions in the cabin and yard were exactly as Erren had left them. It was getting harder to avoid the distraction of thinking about his family.
Not to mention the distraction of Darby. Just jump in and get it out in the open.
“What were you going to say?”
“I…ah…I can’t remember.” He laughed, a nice normal, noncalculated chuckle for once because he couldn’t remember the direction his thoughts were headed before looking at her lips.
Seconds ticked by, with the silence broken only by the old swing creaking.
“So this is your dad’s shirt?”
“Was. He and my mother were killed when I was twelve. We must have missed it when we packed up. I haven’t seen it since the summer he died.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know. The baseball?”
“My dad had it signed by the entire Rangers team just after I was born.”
“And the six-inch carp?” She pushed the swing, her bare feet beckoning him to look at her legs.
“My first catch here at the lake. I might have been four.”
At one point in his life this had been an ordinary second home at the lake, small yet cozy. Now sadly barren, only showing the things he couldn’t bear to put in storage.
“So this really is your cabin.”
“It is.” Her bare thighs screamed at him to reach across the small porch and run his fingertips over her toned muscles. He grabbed the metal arms and held tight.
“Who are you, Erren Rhodes?”
“Just a typical guy.”
“I doubt that.” She didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm but he didn’t let it provoke him. The rhythm of the swing increased its tempo. She was antsy again.
“I’m also the guy who wants to make certain you can keep yourself alive.” He turned to her, as serious a mask in place as he knew how to generate. “Which means you follow my orders, Darby. No questioning. No second-guessing me.”
“So this is taking it outside for real this time? And you win?” She laughed at her own joke.
Shoot, so much for his seriousness. The appealing laughter in her eyes got to him. He liked her laugh. Liked the way it came from deep in her chest. Not a nasal, whiny squeak that made you want to cringe. Her laugh was almost…encouraging him to join her on that swing.
Back to reality, man! He scrubbed the smile off his face.
“If you’re going to be my partner—my real partner—we should go over a couple of things. Like, when I say ‘get down’ you actually hit the ground instead of flying after the guy shooting at us.” He rolled his shoulders, stretching his back. “No buts, Darby. I’ve been doing this a long time.”
“Yes, sir. I can take orders.” She mock saluted in his direction.
“This isn’t a game.” His voice had risen and he got it back under control. “I’m responsible for you and—”
“No. You aren’t.”
“I gave your father my word.”
“And I know he didn’t ask you for it,” she said with perfect confidence.
How could he respond? She was right.
“The Sergeant Major wasn’t around too much when we were growing up all over the world. One military base after another. We didn’t come back to Texas until he retired.” Sadness tinged her voice as she tucked the curls behind her ears, something he’d wanted to do for several minutes. Now he could see the disappointment in her eyes. “He left four very curious minds to grow up alone…a lot. We were taught to be very independent, but I can take orders when necessary.”
“I need your help to ensure your brother’s safety.” Crickets chirped. The breeze blew a wind chime from a neighboring yard. His abs contracted and he had to force normal breathing. “It’ll be dangerous, and it may ruin your career. But you can trust me. If you listen, we can pull this off.”
“I’m in.”
“You don’t know what I’m asking you to do.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She stopped the swing, planting her feet on the worn wood of the deck. “He’s my little brother. I’m not only trusting you with my life, Erren. This is Texas. If Michael’s convicted of murdering a cop, it’s an expressway to the death penalty.”
DARBY WOUND THROUGH THE Parkland Memorial Hospital’s halls as if it were a typical day at work. She’d been in the county hospital several times to obtain statements from suspects or criminals. She never minded visiting the hospital to do her job. For the most part visiting was okay. There were areas that smelled like antiseptic or Mr. Clean. It always smelled the same to her. Overly absent.
It had been easy to purchase hospital scrubs and white shoes at a Walmart north of Dallas so they’d blend in. She and Erren had parked the truck, traveling the last half mile on separate buses. The facility normally had a huge staff, and the shift change on a Saturday morning provided perfect timing.
She’d told Erren she’d wait for him in the visitors’ area on the eighth floor. When she noticed his tall frame at the end of the hall, he stopped and chatted with several nurses at their station, seemingly unaware he was three minutes late. One of the nurses handed him a chart.
Wearing a white doctor’s coat with his hair pulled back in a rubber band, he flipped through the pages and turned his back to a security camera, waving to the brunette who continued to watch him walk away.
Darby lifted two fingers, pointing to the right. He acknowledged and passed her, opening the second door down the hall. She waited a moment and followed.
“Are you crazy?” she asked as soon as she pulled the door closed. “What was that all about at the nurses’ station?”
It was tight quarters in the closet where the crash cart was stored. Not much room for one person, let alone two. Erren took a step forward and was a hairsbreadth away from her.
Being close to him was driving her senses bonkers.
“Just blending in. I scored the coat on the way inside.” He lifted the collar with both thumbs, showing off. “Want to play doctor?”
The tension between them hadn’t subsided but only grown through the night. She’d even been able to get her hands on his chest when he’d insisted she practice giving him fake CPR. Making certain her brother would still breathe and wouldn’t be harmed by her pounding on his heart.
“We have a short window of time to pull this rescue together and an even shorter amount to make it happen.” Ignoring his playful “doctor” comment and avoiding looking into his eyes, she asked, “Shouldn’t we go over the last-minute details?”
His lips on hers took her totally by surprise. His hands stroking the skin of her back were as much a part of the kiss as his lips. The warmth of his arms penetrated the scrub shirt, wrapping her in a cocoon of protection. She didn’t understand her desire to stay secure or how this particular man could provide it. But she certainly enjoyed being there.
Her lips were moist from
his caress and suddenly cool. Opening her eyes, Erren was still close because her arms had wound around his neck holding him in place. She dropped her hands to her sides, but his arms held tight at her waist.
“Hey, kissing worked when I was nervous in the balloon.”
“Are you certain this is the only way?” she asked, calmer, but still uncertain. “Isn’t there someone on Pike’s wall who could guard Michael or something?”
“Second thoughts?” He smiled at her, damn it. A smile that told her he completely understood she didn’t want to break the law she’d sworn to uphold.
“None. You can’t do this without two people in his room. I also know this hospital and their protocol. I can do this.”
“Great. This our special machine?” He set the chart on top of the crash cart. Fully in his element, his attitude was not only playful but excited. His eyes were bright and mischievous. “All set for hearts to go pitter pat?”
His teasing was meant to set her at ease. She hoped his infectious attitude would rub off and eliminate her jitters.
“I thought I was going to be the doctor.” She tried to maintain his lightheartedness.
“And I said I would not be a male nurse.” He straightened her brown wig. “Don’t worry about the flirting. I didn’t mean any of it. The nurses have an image of me in their head, but probably won’t be able to remember. They see a variety of doctors and would have paid more attention if I hadn’t talked or flirted.”
“I don’t think you accomplished what you hoped for.” Especially with the brunette.
“Are you ready?” The amber of his eyes had darkened with anticipation.
“Yes.”
Pay attention—your brother’s life depends on you.
“Did you confirm the Sergeant Major’s location?”
“I used the hospital lobby phone. They’re in the parking lot with the car.”
“Perfect. Let me get the Medic on the line. We don’t go ’til he’s on standby.” He dialed the cell the ADA had given him the night before.
“Erren, I want to th—”
He raised a finger to his lips.
No one picked up. Erren redialed. “Come on, man. We’ve only got twenty minutes.”
The space was restricted and she could smell the clean, soapy scent of his skin when she turned her head to wait. She took a step back, but Erren’s free hand stopped her from moving. They weren’t really touching, except where his hand rested on her hip bone. And she should be more concerned that moments from now they’d be irrevocably breaking the law and she’d never be a cop again.
But right then, all she could think about was the strong, confident feel of Erren’s chest as she’d spaced and reviewed where to place her hands for CPR. Or how it felt to put her palm over his heart and feel wholly alive.
“What took you so long?” Erren spoke into the phone. “We’re ready to go. You’re on speaker. Remember to mute your phone unless you need to correct what we’re doing.”
Erren slipped the phone in his pocket. His hands cupped the sides of her shoulders and he looked into her eyes.
“Remember the conversation. Don’t lie. We talked about what’s going to happen. I mean it, Darby—it’s all the truth. Don’t lie. They’ll see through you faster than dialing 911.”
The man who would be hiding Michael was from Pike’s wall, a recommendation from Brian and known simply as “the Medic.” She’d listened to the plan through the open door while she’d been on the porch. Her inexperience wouldn’t have contributed to the conversation and she’d been tired of having to hold her tongue.
Their plan was solid and she agreed it was the only thing they could do. Thank God rescuing and securing Michael was everyone’s top priority. Even her father’s.
Erren picked up the chart and she backed out, pulling the cart. They left the closet, turning the last corner. Erren put glasses on, stooped his shoulders and put a pen over his ear. His complete immersion into his role as Dr. McCoy gave her the confidence to be his sidekick nurse. She was saving her little brother.
And she wasn’t lying, she was the nurse. Taking a deep breath, she dove into her first undercover operation.
“I’m sorry we’re running so far behind, Dr. McCoy,” she said, approaching the guarded door. “There wasn’t anything to do. They got the CT Scan up and running late this morning. The lawyers were unrelenting. They insisted we proceed as soon as possible.”
“If his blood pressure’s been dropping all night, you should have called me, not waited for the lawyers to raise hell.” He walked to the door, holding his Parkland ID up to the officer and looking at the chart. “Maybe I should call and get them out of bed at three in the morning with the results.” He looked directly at the officer. “It’s what lawyers deserve, right?”
The officer covered his mouth with his fist to hide his chuckle. She started to follow Dr. McCoy through the door and saw her baby brother.
“Nurse Chapel?”
“What?” Could she really do this? Could she walk into that room and pretend her brother was just some regular guy?
“You forgot to show Officer…” He looked at his name tag. “Officer Waggoner your badge.”
“Sorry, ma’am. It’s fine.”
“My fault,” she said, showing him the piece of plastic on her lanyard. “It’s been a long night.”
And yes. She could do anything to save her brother’s life. Even break the law.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She stared at a pale body, hardly resembling the little boy she’d taken care of all her life. She wanted to whisper in Michael’s ear, wake up, little bro. His eyes would blink open, and he’d tell everyone what really happened, clear up these misunderstandings and everything would be back to normal.
Wasn’t it perfect irony that if he woke up now, they’d all go to jail?
Chapter Ten
“I’ll be outside.” An officer stood from his chair, punching the remote and clicking the TV off. Neither officer seemed to give their assumed Star Trek character names a second thought.
Darby had to bite down to keep Michael’s name off her lips. She hadn’t seen her brother in a couple of months and had been an emotional punching bag since they’d been informed he was in custody. It killed her not to be allowed to care for him. Helplessness compounded her guilt.
Undercover work isn’t a place for your emotions. You’ll have to keep them under control. Erren’s advice came sliding back into her memory long enough to get her feelings in check.
Erren placed his back to the open door and positioned Michael’s chart at her brother’s feet. He set the cell next to Michael’s arm, then took a stethoscope from his coat pocket and listened to her brother’s chest.
“Pulse is one-twenty. Breathing is shallow.” He rolled Michael slightly on his side and listened to his back. “Absent breath sounds on the right. Not good.”
Darby wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around Michael’s left arm and watched the officers stretching their backs outside the door. She inflated the cuff and pretended to take her brother’s blood pressure.
Erren looked at her, smiling, while he flipped the chart open and pointed his finger down the page. Then he frowned, changing back to Dr. McCoy. “What’s his BP?”
“Sixty over forty.”
“What the heck is happening? His blood pressure was fine in ICU. Does he have a bleeder? A pneumothorax?” he said a bit louder, grabbing the attention of Officer Waggoner. “There’s no explanation for this.”
Waggoner nudged the second cop, Rios. Both officers stepped closer into the doorway, just as Erren had predicted.
“This shouldn’t be happening. Check his fluids, Nurse.”
She verified that his saline drip was mounted to the corner of his bed. He wasn’t connected to oxygen. Thank goodness. That was the Medic’s biggest concern. His Foley bag was hidden beneath the blanket.
“Pulse is fast and irregular, Doctor.” She continued through her checklist of things the Medic ha
d given to her.
“What’s going on?” Waggoner asked.
Darby saw the triumph in Erren’s eyes as the officer stepped through the doorway. They were buying it—and her—for now.
“Keep them out of here, Nurse.” Erren’s voice had gone high, showing the supposed strain of a doctor facing a crashing patient.
She crossed the room, plastering a grim, concerned look on her face—something else she had practiced in the truck’s vanity mirror for miles. “I’m sorry, could you…?” They stepped backward as she began to shut the door. “Thank you.”
When she’d taken her place at Michael’s side again, Erren mouthed “You ready?”
She nodded.
“Get the EKG hooked up and let’s see what’s going on. I want X-ray and an O.R. on standby.” He took two giant steps and pulled the door open.
“When’s the last time someone checked on this man?”
“Normal rounds. It’s right there on the dry-erase board. They said he was improving.” Waggoner pointed to the nurses’ initials. “It was before we came on duty.”
“He’s dying now. And he shouldn’t be.”
“The guy’s a cop killer. Maybe he’s getting what he deserved,” Rios blurted out.
“I’ll remember you said that,” Erren answered firmly. “If he doesn’t make it…”
“No one touched him.”
She disconnected the first lead from the EKG. The cop only reacted to what he’d heard. Brian may trust these men, but they didn’t care if Michael lived or died. If she hadn’t been convinced this was the only course of action before, she was now.
The monitor beeped differently. She unplugged the other leads.
The flat line wasn’t real. She knew it wasn’t real. But it sure felt real. Her own heart wanted to beat for her brother.
He’s fine and you’re not O’Malley, you’re Nurse Chapel.
“Start CPR,” Doctor Erren McCoy instructed and Nurse Darby Chapel performed.
She concentrated on making each step look as authentic as possible without actually hurting Michael. She’d practiced. She knew what to do.
“He’s not responding,” she said, letting the genuine panic in her voice bubble through. Erren’s hands slid over hers as he took over the bogus CPR. For several minutes she pulled drugs from the cart, draining the syringes into the sheets near Michael’s body.