by Mary Eason
At times the older detective‘s pessimistic attitude got to him. Frank Burbeck was one of the best detectives around but witnessing hundreds of homicides through his twenty-plus years on the force had left their mark on him.
“Probably. But it’s worth a shot. Care to take a guess on what a kid like that might be doing in this part of town so late?”
Frank shook his head in disgust. “This city’s going to hell in a hand basket if you ask me. All because of drugs. And what’s the mayor’s answer? Put more rookie cops out on the streets like that skirt back there. Got no business being on the force, if you ask me. Gonna get herself and her partner killed one of these days.”
***
The steady vibration of Jordan’s cell phone interrupted the last of her nightly rounds. The text message read 9-1-1.
She recognized the extension immediately. It was the ER.
Dear God – not another critically injured child.
She didn’t think she could face another child’s parents and tell them their child was sick or dying..
Jordan didn’t bother returning the page. If someone on the ER staff paged her, there would be little time to spare for details. She took the steps two at a time. This wasn’t her first trip down these stairs tonight. And if life were running true to form for a Saturday night, it wouldn’t be her last.
“Someone paged me?” she asked the first year resident on duty. He couldn’t make eye contact. This was the same kid who’d been flirting with her just a few hours earlier. Now, his gaze bounced to the floor then back to Jordan’s general direction before locking on something just beyond her left shoulder.
“Jordan.” Her attention jerked behind her to Doctor Elliot Colton, the ER’s attending.
“Elliot, someone paged me?” The sympathy pooling in Elliot’s dark brown eyes make it clear something was dreadfully wrong.
“Jordan, I need you to come with me—“
“What’s wrong?” Elliott had been both her friend and mentor since she’d started at Manhattan General. She trusted him with her life.
“Jordan, please…” Elliot took her arm and slowly forced her toward his office.
Out of earshot from the rest of the staff.
The mere act coupled with the seriousness in Elliot’s manner was all too familiar and frightening.
Jordan barely waited until he’d closed the door. “What is it? What’s happened?” For the first time, his gaze slipped from hers. “God El – what is it?”
“It’s Jeremy. There’s been a…accident.”
She saw the truth in Elliot’s eyes even before she could form the words to ask. “Is he?”
“I’m sorry. I need you to come with me.” His gaze panned across her face. She’d seen that look a thousand times before. He was trying to determine how much of the details to reveal.
“Elliott, tell me—“
“I’ll explain everything, but right now I think you need to prepare yourself for the worst.”
Once the reality of what he wasn’t telling her finally settled in, Jordan turned on her heel and headed for the door.
Elliot hesitated only a second before following. “Jor...Jordan wait up.”
“Where is he?” But she really didn’t need to ask. She knew. They’d have taken Jeremy to the Intensive Care Unit.
Jordan jabbed the elevator button until the doors slid open.
“Tell me what happened to my brother, for God’s sake.” Her voice shook with emotion.
“I don’t know all the details yet--” He stopped and looked away.
“You said this was an accident?”
“Jordan, he’s been shot.”
Before she could even let herself consider the meaning of those words, the doors opened to the fifth floor ICU.
“It’s this way,” Elliott said quietly. It was the same reverent tone he used to deliver devastating news to loved ones. She’d heard it a thousand times in the past but never felt its impact before today. Now, each word carried the weight of a blow.
He led her down the long ICU corridor lined with doors. The ones at the end were reserved for the most serious patients.
Those without hope.
Elliot pushed the door open. It took all her strength to follow him inside. She almost didn’t recognize her brother. Most of the top of his head had been bandaged to cover the bullet wound. A fresh patch of blood seeped through the thick dressing.
Jeremy lay unconscious, barely hanging onto life. A multitude of lines connected him to life support.
“Oh God, no.” Jordan drew in a ragged breath then crossed the room to reach for Jeremy’s hand. It felt cold to her touch. The boy lying in that hospital bed now was nothing more than a shell of the energetic kid she’d all but raised alone.
The world and its concerns disappeared. She was no longer aware of Elliott standing close, or her worries for her future with Caesar. The only thing that mattered was Jeremy. Saving Jeremy. She’d do anything to take his place.
Still clutching Jeremy’s hand tight, Jordan hit her knees and began to pray.
***
By the time they reached Manhattan General and found a parking place, Riley and his partner had managed to piece together a few more key details about the Scott kid’s life. Over an hour and half had passed since the call first came in. Riley doubted if they’d find the kid alive still. He dreaded having to face the family with questions about the kid’s death. He’d been through this routine countless times, but it never got easier.
The sliding glass doors of the ER opened automatically as they approached the entrance. Riley and Frank stopped in front of the nurses’ station and showed their badges to the duty nurse filling out a chart.
“We’re looking for Jeremy Scott. Gunshot victim. He was brought in earlier this evening.”
The woman’s gaze flicked briefly over the badges. Satisfied they were who they said they were, she stopped writing. “Just a second.” She moved to the opposite side of the station and as far away from them as she could get before picking up the phone, ignoring the one that had been right next to her.
The nurse spoke to someone in a hushed whisper while periodically glancing back over her shoulder.
“Kid’s dead,” Frank muttered under his breath.
“God, I hope you’re wrong this time.” Riley watched the nurse replace the receiver then head back their way.
“Our attending will be right with you, detectives.”
“What can you tell us about the kid’s status?” Riley didn’t really expect her to give him any information, but her expression was enough to tell him it didn’t look good.
“Dr. Colton will explain the details of the case.” The nurse didn’t give Riley the chance to ask another question. She stepped to the far end of the station and began sorting charts.
“Detectives?” They turned in unison in time to see a man who appeared to be in his mid-forties approaching.
“I’m Doctor Elliot Colton.”
Riley took the doctor’s offered hand. “Detective Donovan. My partner Detective Burbeck.” He introduced Frank who gave the doctor one of his brusque nods.
“You’re here about Jeremy Scott?”
“Yes. Can you tell us what his prognosis is?”
The doctor shook his head gravely. “Not good, I’m afraid. Please come with me, detectives.” Riley and Frank exchanged a quick look then followed the doctor to the elevator.
“To tell you the truth, I’m surprised he’s still alive,” Colton added once they reached the fifth floor. “But I don’t expect him to make it through the night. The bullet did tremendous damage to the brain. I’m afraid there was nothing we could do for him.”
They stopped in front of one of the rooms. “His sister is with him now. She was on duty tonight, thank God. Otherwise…” He left the rest of the sentence unspoken. Words weren’t necessary. They both knew the kid’s time here on earth would now be measured in minutes.
Being in homicide for going on five years, Ril
ey had seen his fair share of deaths. Still, he couldn’t imagine watching a family member die in such a horrific way.
The doctor showed them to a small waiting area set up directly opposite of the room. An assortment of magazines had been spread out across the chairs and small glass table. The hospital’s chaplain had authorized several religious pamphlets as well as a Gideon bible placed on one of the side tables.
“Can you tell me anything about Jeremy or his sister?” Riley began his questioning while trying to distance himself from the kid’s tragedy.
“I’ve known Jordan since she first interned here. She’s an excellent doctor and a good person.”
“What about the brother.” Riley looked up from jotting notes at the doctor’s noticeable pause. He didn’t miss the way the doctor seemed to choose his words carefully.
“Nothing out of the ordinary that I can think of. Jordan practically raised Jeremy when their parents died – I think he was ten maybe. She became his legal guardian. The only real mother Jeremy ever knew. He adores her. And Jordan would do anything for him. She worked two to three jobs most of the time just to get through medical school and provide for her brother—“ The doctor’s cell interrupted the conversation. “Excuse me.” He turned away to answer the phone and spoke briefly.
“Yes. Make sure he’s stabilized. Call me if his condition worsens. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He flipped the phone closed then took a moment to collect himself before facing them again.
“That was the ER. Apparently, there’s been another shooting.” He shook his head. “Must be a full moon tonight. Would you like to speak with Jordan?”
Riley gave a succinct nod. “Yes, I think we need to clear up some of the discrepancies with her. Thank you for your help, doctor.” The doctor spared them another quick glance then disappeared inside the room.
While they waited, Riley studied the stack of outdated magazines scattered across the tabletop, going over the details of the case in his head. It had surprised him when they’d found Caesar Santiago’s business card stuffed inside Jeremy Scott’s wallet. At first, he’d dismissed it as pure coincidence, but through the years of watching the man beat every single charge brought against him, Riley knew where Santiago was concerned, there was no such thing as a coincidence. Still, what was a kid like Jeremy doing mixed up with one of the biggest alleged drug dealers in the city? It hadn’t taken more than a phone call to learn the truth. Jeremy Scott’s sister was engaged to be married to Caesar Santiago.
“Shit,” Frank muttered once the doctor was out of earshot. “I hate this crap. Man I knew the second the phone rang five minutes before our shift ended it was going to be bad. Just one of those damn feelings. We should’ve let Benson have this one, bubba.”
Riley picked up a magazine and flipped through its pages. He hadn’t said as much and God only knew he hated to give credence to one of Frank’s ‘feelings’, but something was definitely telling him, for once, Frank Burbeck might just be right.
Doctor Colton stepped out of the Scott kid’s room a few minutes later followed by a petite brunette dressed in hospital scrubs. Riley gauged her age to be somewhere late twenties possibly early thirties. Her light brown hair was pulled away from her face revealing the most haunting green eyes he’d ever seen.
How had someone like her come to be involved with Santiago in the first place? She had clean-cut, squeaky clean written all over her. No way would they travel in the same public circles. He made a mental note to check out recent social events hosted by the hospital. Santiago had a reputation for being a philanthropist. Perhaps that would explain their connection.
She said something to Colton and then her gaze connected with Riley’s. An awareness sparked between them unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. For a second, he forgot about being a cop, his instincts were all human, all male. Riley’d never considered himself an overly macho man before, and yet the strong need to protect her which control of his emotions proved otherwise. He wanted to make all of her pain go away unbalanced him for a moment.
Looking into her eyes was like having a front row seat to the worst possible event in her life. He could feel the depth of her pain as if it were his own. It made one thing perfectly clear. She didn’t have a clue what her fiancé was involved in.
“Jordan, these are the detectives investigating Jeremy’s…accident.”
Frank, who’d been pacing the small waiting area, trying to drive out some of his pent up energy, jerked around at the sound of the doctor’s voice. If the situation hadn’t been so grave, the expression of surprise on his partner’s face at the sight of Jordan Scott would have come across as comical. Nothing rattled this hardened detective. But if he didn’t know better, Riley’d have sworn Burbeck’s jaw dropped about a mile as he studied the pretty young doctor.
Finally, Burbeck seemed to remember why they were there. “Jordan Scott?” Frank wiped a hand across the jacket of his off-the-rack, dark green suit then stuck it out. “I’m Detective Frank Burbeck. I’m with the homicide unit.”
“Doctor Jordan Scott.” She corrected automatically. No doubt, after years of dealing with arrogant male attitudes, she’d become accustomed to having to assert herself.
“I apologize, Doctor Scott.” Suddenly Frank seemed ill at ease. In all the years they’d been partners, Riley wouldn’t have gauged Burbeck for having a softer side, but clearly he’d been wrong.
“Can’t this wait detective? I need to be with my brother.”
Riley stepped forward at the reemergence of Frank’s impatience, infusing sympathy into his tone. “I’m sorry, Doctor Scott, I’m afraid it can’t.” He raked a careless hand through the unruly waves of his sandy-blond hair. “I’m Detective Riley Donovan. We need to ask you some questions about your fiancé. Caesar Santiago.”
***
Riley Donovan didn’t have that hardened, distanced look she’d come to expect from most of the detectives she’d encountered in the past. His startling blue eyes took her breath away from the moment she looked into them. For a brief second, her pain took second place over feelings she thought would have been banished forever from her emotions after Caesar’s betrayal. It took her a minute to regain her equilibrium.
Riley continued to watch her carefully, but something shifted in those blue eyes. He felt it too. It was as if he were weighing her every reaction. A cop’s instinct. She’d seen it plenty of times while being interviewed in child abuse cases. It became second nature for most cops.
Then she remembered his question. It had both surprised and rattled her. It carried all the muscle of a blow, reminding Jordan of the argument she’d had with Caesar earlier that night. And the elation that had been in his voice.
“What are you talking about? What does my fiancé have to do with this?”
Detectives Donovan and Burbeck exchanged a look that sent an uneasy shiver along her spine. Donovan moved closer. She could feel the pressure of warm fingers against her lower back as he guided her away from Elliot’s range of hearing, which only served to increase her fears. Elliot had wanted to stay. Be protective, but clearly the direction Detective Donovan’s questions had taken made him uncomfortable.
“Doctor, if you could give us just a few minutes.” Strength seemed to radiate from Detective Donovan like a protective shield. He would be someone to turn to in a crisis. God she wished she could let herself lean back against his tall, warm body and rest in his strength.
Jordan closed her eyes, resisting that need with difficulty. “Whatever you have to say can wait. I need to see my brother.” She freed herself of the detective’s touch and started back to her brother’s room. Before she’d taken even a single step, the PA system announced a ‘code blue’. Someone was crashing. Oh, God. Jeremy!
Within seconds, the trauma team raced past them toward Jeremy’s room. Jordan pushed past the detective and followed, a thousand different thoughts chasing through her head.
The last conversation she’d had with Jeremy ran through h
er head. There’d been something in his tone. It was the first time they’d actually had a real conversation in – what – a couple of weeks. He told her he needed to talk to her. She’d assumed it could wait. She’d told him she would call him later that night. She hadn’t. Instead, she’d been caught up in her own tragedy.
Why had she chosen to pull a double shift? Why hadn’t she listened to that little voice inside her head that told her Jeremy needed her?
The room became crowded with emergency personnel working frantically to save her brother’s life. She stood immobile at the foot of his bed watching her nineteen-year-old kid brother slowly slip away.
Someone announced -- “Time of death…”
Someone screamed.
The doctor in charge gave Jordan only a cursory glance before pronouncing the time -- twelve-o-seven AM.
Then the room tilted and braked to slow motion. Blackness crowded in and strong yet strangely familiar hands reached through the darkness to catch her before she could fall. She held onto that strength until she could face the pain waiting for her back in the real world.
***
In the blink of an eye, time became a precious commodity. Every second counted.
With a brief nod to his partner, Riley lifted and carried Jordan’s limp body to one of the empty rooms close by. His partner followed, standing guard outside of the Scott kid’s room.
Riley closed the door, laid Jordan on the bed, and tucked her hands in his. They felt as cold as ice. Shock did strange things to the human body.
Sleeping and unaware of the drama unfolding around her, she appeared almost fragile, but he knew she wasn’t. Anyone who dealt with the trauma of life and death on a daily basis had to be made of strong material.
“What happened?” He hadn’t realized she’d regained consciousness until she spoke. She stared up at him. The pain in those hazel eyes tugged him back to the moment. He’d never seen eyes quite so clear or expressive before.
She pulled her hands from his, covering her eyes for a moment.
Riley leaned closer, inches from her face. That same look of awareness pooled in her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. “You fainted. Are you okay?”