Thunder and lightning crashed overhead, but the van fired right up. I went back to the front of the van and watched air bubbles come out of the radiator as the water was pumped through the system. I knew from past experience that after doing something like this, you sometimes had to let it go for five to ten minutes to get all the air out and top off the radiator. I wasn’t worried about the top off, but the wind and rain were starting to freeze me. I was sure it was sixty-five or seventy-five degrees, but I was soaked and the wind seemed to make it feel much, much colder than it was.
Opus barked happily, and I looked around the side of the hood to see him in the driver’s seat. I grinned and waited, pouring the rest of the water in the radiator before putting the cap on and closing the hood.
“Get over,” I said, opening my door.
Opus sneezed and got in the passenger side as I dropped the empty containers in the middle. “Let’s go to the arches and pick up your mom so we can get out of here!”
I didn’t have far to go and watched the needle as the van heated up. So far, so good. Until… Red and blue lights were what I saw as I pulled into the McDonald’s. Cops and an ambulance. My heart dropped and I prayed for the first time in years. I put my blinker on and was pulling in when a policeman tried to wave me not to. I ignored his frantic waving and pulled up short, rolling my window down.
“We’ve shut it down for an investigation,” he yelled at me, his voice angry.
“My wife and son are here,” I told him.
“Your wife and… Sir, please park over here,” he said, waving at another cop and pointing to a spot next to the ambulance.
My heart was going a thousand miles an hour, threatening to explode. My mouth was dry and I realized that for the very first time in my life, I was more scared than any other time than I could remember. I saw another cop take the place of the guy who flagged me over. I parked and kept my window down as he ran over to the side.
“Sir, what’s your wife and son’s name?”
“Tina and Owen. Owen’s a little over two, and my wife’s about five-feet-nothing, glasses, pixie haircut—”
“Owen?” he said, mumbling something into the microphone on his shoulder.
“Yes, he’s two,” I said loudly, so I could be heard over the wind.
“Sir, please come with me,” he said, getting out.
I did, and Ophelia jumped out. Opus and Sarge tried to but the policeman’s eyes got huge when he saw three hundred pounds of fur staring at him.
“You two watch the van for me, I’ll be back,” I said, pushing both gently and closing the passenger side door.
“Your dog there, she’s not mean is she?” he asked, nervous.
“She’s a trained S&R police dog,” I told him. “She’s got a little separation anxiety when she isn’t around me. Is it ok?”
“Would your son know the dog?” the policeman asked.
“Oh yeah,” I said, my heart leaping at that. They were here! “The younger goofball is Sarge, Owen’s dog.”
My heart dropped when he knocked on the back of the ambulance and they opened the door. He gestured for me to stand next to him. I tried, but Ophelia muscled her way between both of us and hopped in. The EMTs shouted in surprise, but I heard Owen’s voice.
“Ofie! Dayee!” he screamed gleefully.
I saw him walking toward me, his feet moving faster than his body. The EMT caught him before he could fall, but I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight.
“Owen, you ok, buddy?” I asked, pushing him back slightly so I could look him over.
Ophelia barked happily, licking Owen on the side of the head before getting me.
“Where’s your mom?” I asked him.
“Momma go bye?” Owen asked me.
I saw two EMTs but no Tina. The cop next to me coughed and motioned to me.
“We were called because at first it appeared that Owen was abandoned here. We’ve done a check and he’s healthy. We were about ready to put his picture on the news, but he’s obviously… I mean, you have official birth certificate and records on you?”
“Yes, we traveled down here from Michigan. I brought them with me for the cruise. Where’s my wife?”
“Let’s go inside, out of the rain. I’m not sure if they’ll let you bring a dog in, but this time, we might have to make an exception,” he said as Owen wrapped his arms around Ophelia tightly, working his fingers deep into her fur.
24
Tina
Stupid!
Her memory was fuzzy, and she struggled with consciousness…
Tina knew when Javier and his partner walked in that it was no coincidence. They locked eyes with her and the man she’d stomped made a shooting motion at the both of them. Then he hooked his finger, telling her silently to come toward the glass door separating the play area from the rest of the restaurant. She didn’t want to, and was instead reaching for her phone when Javier pulled up his shirt, showing her a chromed pistol. She froze, hearing Owen’s laughter behind her as he played in the ball pit.
Then things got confusing. She knew that they spoke and that threats were made. She hoped that they hadn’t noticed the tow-headed toddler behind her because they paid him no attention. She’d cried as softly as possible, remembering their threats to kill her here if she made a scene and, not wanting Owen to get hurt, she did what she could to comply. She’d handed over her purse where they took her phone and her wallet with all her cards and cash. They found and pocketed the .380 she kept in there as well, snickering between themselves.
She turned her head as Owen decided to come up and say hi. She’d tried to tell him to go back to play, but Javier grabbed her arm tightly.
“He’ll be fine, we’re just going to teach you not to mess with us,” he had said, handing her a white pill.
“What’s this?” she’d asked.
“What I should have had put in your drink,” Javier’s partner said, “instead of your husband’s. Now it’s time to pay you back. Don’t worry, you won’t remember anything tomorrow.”
“Heh, I will,” the man she’d stomped said, grinning maliciously.
Tina almost forgot everything as a blind panic started to over take her.
No, not again! Never!
Javier pulled the gun out of his waistband and pointed it under the table at Owen. Tina’s heart nearly broke. She would endure anything. She could shut it out, she'd done it before.
“You won’t hurt him,” she said, statement not a question.
“Just you and us,” Javier said.
She’d taken the pill and dry swallowed it.
“I can’t just leave him here,” she’d told them.
“Better than being dead, isn’t it?”
The tears flowed, harder than she’d expected.
She had felt somebody pawing at her clothing, hearing the fabric rip. She felt drunk, everything was fuzzy. She’d slumped slightly and somebody pushed her so her back was against something rough. Brick? She opened her eyes and saw a familiar stranger, yanking at the front of her shirt. Javier? She reacted without thinking, a result of constant training and practice ever since Owen had been born. She pulled him closer to her and he’d greedily moved in thinking in her drugged state she was giving in.
Her knee came up. It had felt like slow motion to Tina, but she’d connected and Javier’s breath had left him in a rush. He leaned forward. She managed to grab the back of his head and smash it against first one knee, then another. His head rocked back, and she threw a rabbit punch into his throat, dropping him before she stumbled and fell. Javier’s friend rushed in, and she went down under his weight. That was when she saw a flash of chrome to the right as his weight knocked the wind out of her lungs.
THE GUN!
She reached, her vision swaying. A heavy punch hit her in the side of the head, and for a moment she blacked out. She heard scrambling a moment later and the weight lifted off of her. She gasped for breath as a man cursed and retched somewhere nearby. Her han
d reached out and she felt a cold shape in the darkness. She opened her eyes, realizing that she’d grabbed the slide of a cheap pistol and saw Javier’s buddy undoing his belt. His eyes were on her semi exposed chest and not her hand. His eyes opened in surprise when the bore of the .45 was pointing his way.
Tina started firing.
25
Rick
The owner was pulling the security tapes already, and we were heading into the McDonald’s with Owen and Ophelia when we heard the gunshots.
“Get down,” Officer Hanson said, pushing me and Owen behind the brickwork McDonald’s was known for.
“Shots, three or four blocks away,” the cop who was waving traffic back called.
“Momma?” Owen asked.
I knew what I had to do. Ophelia was close to me, but I needed at least one more. I ignored Officer Hanson’s yells as I rushed to the van, yelling commands to Opus. Ophelia kept pace next to me until I made it to the door. Both Sarge and Opus nearly knocked me and Owen over as they rushed out of the van.
“Go find Tina,” I told Ophelia, then snarled something in German to Opus who suddenly went very still.
For once, Sarge looked serious as well. “Go find. Now. Protect,” is what I think the command translated to. I pointed in the sound of the shots and three of them took off at a dead run, Sarge barking almost nonstop like a hunting dog.
“What the hell?” two officers said, rushing to me.
“I told you, Ophelia is a S&R dog. If that’s my wife, they’ll track her and protect her from whatever’s going on,” I said, starting to follow.
“You can’t go that way, this is a police matter.”
I heard Sarge or Opus bay like a coon hound, and I pushed my way past both of them in a fast walk. “Try to stop me.”
“Can you run?” a younger cop asked, walking briskly in stride with Hanson.
“We can’t rush in there recklessly, and he’s got a kid.”
“EMTs are ready to roll, and we have backup coming from two other directions. My money is on the dogs, if it’s her.”
“You guys better keep up,” I said, cradling Owen close to me as I moved slowly, using cars and buildings as cover, listening as my team of shepherds made as much noise as the rain and the wind. “They won’t listen to anybody but me. I’m going.”
Opus and Sarge were bloody when we got there. When I saw Tina, I wanted to tear the throat out of the two men I recognized. The hardware store and the towing shop. Tina’s top was half torn, half open, and she was covered in blood from her neck to waist. She moaned, rocking side to side, her hands on her head. I was going to rush over, but the EMTs beat me there. Both Sarge and Opus had chewed on a semi-conscious man who was holding his throat. Ophelia stood over a chromed 1911, her fangs out, snarling louder than anybody else. The man had his back against the wall of an old Sunoco and every time he moved, Opus and Sarge would dart in, fangs barred.
“Nein,” I said loudly.
All three of them sat down, but I barely saw it. All that blood on Tina but—
“Blood isn’t hers,” an EMT said over his shoulder, “breathing and heart rate normal.”
He took a pen light out of his pocket and pried open an eyelid. “Looks drugged or drunk, possible concussion.”
“Is she… I mean…”
“Male suspect is not responsive, suspect two needs medical attention, but not as much as her. We don’t know if this is an OD or—”
“They roofied her,” I said.
The officer looked up at me sharply. “How do you know?” he asked me.
“They got me a few nights back, trying to rob me. Tina fought them off. We didn’t call the police at first, but the bar—”
“I heard about that call. You recognize these guys?” Hanson asked.
“That guy’s name is Javier,” I said, the tears running freely down my face. “He works at Joe’s Towing. Other guy who was chewed on works at the hardware store a while back. These have to be the guys who tried to rob us.”
“That sounds…”
“It fits,” the EMT said “Ma’am, can you hear me?” He gently shook Tina.
Her eyes swam open, but her movements and speech were drunken.
“Owen, Rick?” she asked.
The dogs made it half a second before I did, Ophelia pushing the EMT out of the way to lay her head in Tina’s armpit.
“Oh, sweet girl. You found me.”
Ophelia chuffed as Opus and Sarge sniffed her, before Opus sat down next to her, grumbling at the EMT. I sat down next to them, Owen in my arms crying for his mom. The cops were already busy checking the two men, taking control of the dropped gun, cuffing the one suspect and a second EMT crew started working on the man who was face down in a growing pool of blood.
Owen had sobbed himself to sleep on my shoulder as we walked back to the van. He’d been scared, alone, and then saw his mom almost passed out. I would have ridden with her in the ambulance, but I had the three dogs and the baby. One of the officers had offered to ride with Tina, but the priority was the man she had shot. Somehow she’d beaten the first one and wrestled the gun away from the second one. She’d been semi-conscious when the EMTs loaded her up and had told me she loved me.
“Ahh, you must be Rick,” Doctor Sorenson said, coming into the crowded waiting room, noting a sleeping Owen and three dogs in tow.
“Yes,” I said standing up, “how’s my wife?”
“She’s fine,” Doctor Soren said, checking a clipboard. “We administered Flumazenil as soon as possible, but we’re monitoring her under concussion protocols.”
“I hear she put up one hell of a fight,” I said, feeling relieved.
“You should see the other guys.”
“You mean the one guy made it?” I asked.
“So far. He’s in surgery, but the bullet nicked his heart. The cardiac surgeons have been working nonstop. Even if he makes it through that, he’s going to have a couple more surgeries to go.”
“What about the other guy?” I asked him.
“Bruised throat and groin. Concussion, needs stitches from where your dogs pulled him away from Tina. Cops have already arrested him, but he hasn’t been medically discharged yet.”
I didn’t know if I was relieved that so far everyone was alive or not. For what they had tried to do and nearly done… part of me wanted them dead. I knew about Tina’s ex, but he wasn’t the only monster who haunted her dreams and I knew at some point we were going to have to have an awkward talk. I’d never pressed her on it, and I probably wouldn’t now unless she… we… needed to. The wind was picking up. It howled and seemingly rattled the windows.
“How long will she be in here?” I asked him.
“We need to hold her for observation while the Rohypnol is flushed from her system and the Flumazenil does its work, and a bad concussion like hers is usually a twenty-four-hour wait.”
“What about the evacuation?” I asked him, terrified.
“We’re on the fourth floor, the hospital was built on high ground and at my last count, I’ve sheltered here for the last dozen or two hurricanes.”
“Dozen or two?” I asked him, “Irene…?”
“Kept us busy, but we were fine. When you live in Florida, you tend to be prepared for this kind of thing. Day after tomorrow is when the hurricane hits… So maybe this time tomorrow night I could write the discharge, but it might be better to keep her an extra day for observation. The punch to the head bounced her skull off the wall or asphalt.”
“I… really?” I said, feeling lost.
“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked me.
“This morning, but I get up stupid early,” I said, wondering if I could see her.
“Good, let me show you where you can take the dogs to do their business and then I’ll take you to the room your wife’s going to be in.”
I grabbed my backpack, and Doctor Sorenson got the diaper bag before I could shift Owen to pick it up. It had to be late now. Middle of the
night late.
“Come on, Opus, get the fam in line,” I told him.
Opus chuffed and Ophelia and Sarge got up, stretching from where they’d been lightly snoozing. I’d used baby wipes to clean the blood off the boys’ muzzles and was surprised that the ER doc had been alerted that I had two service dogs and a S&R dog coming inside. I always kept a few pounds worth of dry kibble for the dogs in my go bag, and judging by the growling in their stomachs I was hearing, they would appreciate it soon. I just didn’t know the rules and regs about them in a hospital like Tina did. She’d been the one to get Opus certified and taken the classes and volunteered.
“They listen rather well. Almost like they know what you said to them exactly,” the doc said, opening up a door after swiping his badge.
“You might think I’m crazy, but they really do. Shepherds are one of the smartest breeds, and I think Opus here has about three hundred words he can understand if I remember right. I just talk to him and he generally gets the idea.”
“Anthropomorphism,” Doc Sorenson said without looking up, muttering to himself.
“Ophelia, that diaper bag is looking heavy and the Doc is tired,” I said.
She walked faster than the other two and nudged his hand holding the bag. He stopped and turned, looking at me. I grinned back and motioned to the floor. He lowered the bag, and Ophelia took the handles in her jaws. She wasn’t as tall as Opus and Sarge, but she was able to lift it up off the floor and looked at me expectantly.
“Follow the doc, I guess,” I told her.
Doc looked at me, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline. He turned and started walking, his head looking back. Ophelia walked right behind him. Opus and Sarge had their tongues hanging out the sides of their mouths in what I could swear was silent laughter.
One Man's Opus (Book 3): Opus Adventure Page 15