Edge of the Heat (Westwood Harbor Corruption)

by Ladew, Lisa

  Sliding into a booth, Emma held her breath again as Reece slid into the booth next to her. She wanted to be able to look at him, but instead she was almost touching him. Her brain was working overtime, analyzing his every move. Did he like her? Did he even notice her? Did he know how nervous she was? Was she acting weird?

  “So where in the hospital are you going to work?” Jerry asked Reece.

  “I’m an anesthesiologist. I float between the E.R. and the surgical center.”

  “So why do they want you to go on a ride-along?”

  “I am being considered for the Surgical Ward Director position when Dr. Faust leaves in 1 month, so I have to experience all aspects of the hospital, including ambulance care.”

  “You don’t look old enough to be a medical director, what are you 35?” Jerry demanded.

  “36 actually,” Reece answered proudly. Emma thought he missed Jerry’s aggressive stance this time.

  “That’s amazing,” Emma said, hoping to defuse any more arguments. Reece beamed at her.

  “Emma, you should come and see me at the hospital. I could show you around my department. Maybe we could get lunch and make a day of it,” Reece said.

  Jerry raised his eyebrows. Emma ignored him. Inside she danced a little happy dance. “I would love to Reece.”

  Emma noticed a waitress heading to their table just before she heard the explosion. She was looking at the waitress and saw her lose her balance and start to tip their plates before the noise registered in her ears. Her senses went on high alert and she grabbed Reese’s head, pushing him under the table and throwing her body on top of his, lacing her hands around the back of her head. She opened her mouth and started to yell to Jerry but Jerry was also on the move already. The window they were sitting next to imploded and shards of glass rained down.

  Emma and Jerry looked at each other under the table, eyes wide. Jerry jumped up and ran over to help the waitress. Emma lifted her head and looked around. The room was eerily silent. All the customers were under their tables and a small girl across the room looked to be screaming. Emma couldn’t hear her.

  Emma pushed at Reece, trying to get him to move out of the booth. He pushed back. She stood straight up on the bench seat and climbed out onto the table and jumped down.

  “Anybody hurt?” she yelled, raking her eyes around the room.

  She couldn’t hear herself. All she could hear was a high-pitched screaming in her ears. She ran to Jerry. He helped the waitress to her feet and pushed her lightly towards the kitchen.

  “Jerry, I can’t hear!” she yelled to him. He looked at her and pointed to his ears, then shook his head.

  Our ears. Oh God don’t let our eardrums be exploded.

  Emma grabbed her radio mike and pressed the button. “Central, this is Unit 17. There has been an explosion near Nan’s on Mineral Street. My partner and I can’t hear anything so you won’t be able to talk back to me. We are heading out to look around and see where it came from. Send fire engines and ambulances, everything you have available.” She spoke smoothly and steadily, willing herself to stay calm. Adrenaline coursed through her system, but she had learned long ago to keep it contained.

  She looked around the room once more. Everyone was still under their tables, peering out at her and Jerry. No one was asking for help. They were not needed here.

  Jerry waved his hand in front of her face and pointed towards the door. She nodded.

  Emma ran to the table where Reece was still kneeling underneath it, his face lined with fear.

  She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out. He half-heartedly tried to pull away but she held on tight and hauled him out, pulling him towards the door. If this was a mass casualty scene, they would need all the help they could get, and a doctor was a good start.

  Once outside, she looked right and left swiftly. An acrid, chemical smell filled her nostrils. The unnatural silence pressed in on her heavily.

  Directly across the street was a parking lot, and on the far side of the parking lot a red brick building had smoke pouring out of all of its windows. Glass littered the parking lot below. People were already milling about in the street and Emma didn’t know if they came from the red brick building, or another.

  Jerry was at the ambulance grabbing their aid bag and long board. She ran up to him, still gripping Reece’s hand tightly. She grabbed Jerry and pantomimed talking on the radio then pointed at him and mouthed “did you?” He shook his head no.

  “Central this is Unit 17, explosion is at the red brick building near the parking lot on Ridge St. We are heading over.”

  Jerry was already sprinting across the parking lot. Emma pulled Reece across the street. When she stepped on the sidewalk on the other side he came to life and ripped his hand from hers. She spun around, eyes wide. He looked at her defiantly and shook his head no. She stared at him, mouth open. He shook his head again and his lips formed the word. He chopped his hands back and forth in front of his body, an ugly sneer planted on his face.

  Fine.

  She whirled around and started running. She ran as fast as she could, glad to burn some adrenaline.

  Once in front of the building she hesitated. They didn’t have gear, they actually weren’t supposed to be going inside of an explosion scene without proper gear and without backup. But Jerry was already inside, and people probably needed help in there. Fuck protocol. She ripped the door open and ran inside.

  Chapter 7.

  Emma pushed the gurney into the ambulance and climbed in after. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion. Jerry closed the doors behind her and headed up to the driver’s seat. They had three “walking wounded” and one woman with a possible broken leg. It had been 14 hours since the explosion.

  They were still working in silence, although hearing was returning to Emma slowly. It had been challenging to work the scene without their hearing, but they had done their best. Since they were first ones on the scene they had been in charge of cataloging the severity of the wounded and getting the worst ones shipped out every time an ambulance showed up. All in all, they had 54 wounded. No one had been dead on scene, but Emma had personally placed 4 people in ambulances that she didn’t have very high hopes for.

  6 hours ago, dispatch cleared them to go home, but since no one in their chain of command had given them an order to leave they stayed. The explosion was a mess of burnt, maimed, and terrified victims, and neither of them would be able to rest until it was clear. These 4 victims were the last of them. The only people left at the scene now were the firefighters picking through the building, trying to figure out what happened.

  The drive to Westwood General Hospital was completely silent. The woman in the gurney cried silently into her arm. Her best friend had been badly injured.

  Emma and Jerry dropped off the four victims and headed back to base without a word. The ambulance needed restocking on every piece of equipment in it but the night time supervisor offered to do it for them. Emma gave him a sweet smile of thanks and plodded to her car. Jerry caught her right before she got in and gave her a long hug. It was 7 in the morning and they needed some sleep. Hopefully it would come without nightmares.

  Jerry gave her a piece of paper with something written on it. “John says we take today off. Debriefing tomorrow at 8 a.m. here.” Emma nodded and got in her car. First order of business when I get home is to throw away this uniform, and then take a shower.

  She barely made it out of the shower before sinking down into her bed and falling into 16 hours of dreamless sleep.

  ***

  Emma arrived at the Critical Incident Stress Debriefing at 7:30. Her step was light and her mind happy. She had attended two of these before, and they really helped to get out any lingering horrors that she didn’t even know her mind had grabbed onto.

  Paramedics dealt with more horror every week than most people did in a lifetime. Most incidents rolled off their back like water off a duck, but some stuck around. Big incidents where multiple people were hurt or k
illed and where the paramedics worked too long under intense stress almost always lodged somewhere in their brains.

  She walked into conference room A and started coffee. Paramedics and firefighters love their coffee. She felt the whoosh of air as the door opened behind her and she turned to see who her fellow early bird was.

  Craig Masterson walked in the door. Emma sucked in her breath. Boy, he is handsome, she thought. He looked at her and smiled, showing perfect dimples in each cheek. Emma felt her knees weaken. Those dimples did her in. An image of a fresh-faced baby with those dimples and wispy, strawberry blond hair flashed in her head. She felt her cheeks flare red. What in the world did that image mean? She plastered a smile on her face and said, “Hi.”

  Craig’s smile widened and those luscious dimples deepened. “Hi Emma, how are your ears?”

  Did she hear him right? Her ears? Her right hand stole up and touched her ear. “My ears?”

  “Yeah, has your hearing returned?”

  Oh man, her hearing! What was wrong with her? She couldn’t even keep a thought in her head when this guy was around! “Oh, yeah. Yes, thanks, I can hear OK now. I still have some ringing and you sound a little muffled, but I can hear you.”

  “That’s great.” He crossed the room and stood in front of her. “Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did an amazing job at that scene. You and your partner worked that scene like mass casualty experts, even though neither of you could hear a thing. I was a little in awe of your expertise.”

  Warmth flooded Emma’s face again. This guy was constantly making her blush! She barely remembered him even being at the scene. She was sure he had been there, but she couldn’t remember interacting with him. She remembered barking orders at several firefighters over and over again throughout the day and night, but not noting who they were. “Oh, ah, thanks. Just training I guess.”

  “Hey now, don’t sell yourself short. Your focus and knowledge and authority were clear. Training can only give you so much of that.”

  Emma felt warm at his compliment. She had long ago given up trying to prove herself in this man’s world, figuring her work would speak for itself. And here was a man who said it did, very well. “Thank you,” she said, putting her hand on his muscular shoulder. “I really appreciate that.”

  “Of course, you deserve it.” He flashed her one more fresh-faced, all-american-quarterback smile and asked, “Is there coffee?”

  “Yes! Sit down and I’ll get you some.” She turned and busied herself with two cups of coffee, glad to look away from his drop-dead gorgeous face and body for a bit.

  She brought two coffees and some creamers and sugar to the table and sat down across from him.

  “So did you guys ever figure out what caused the explosion?” Emma asked.

  His face darkened. “Um yeah, we have some leads, but I’m not supposed to say. Hopefully the Chief will share today what they think happened.”

  Emma’s heartbeat quickened. That didn’t sound good. Why did he look so mad when he said that? She opened her mouth to ask but then the door opened and two more firefighters filed in.

  The newcomers said hi and went straight for coffee. Emma checked her watch. 10 minutes until the debriefing started. People should be coming in quickly now. The door did continue to open and shut until about 45 fire rescue personnel filled the room, talking and laughing. The police would have their own debriefing.

  Jerry came in almost last and planted a quick kiss on Emma’s cheek. When he saw Craig across from her he smiled widely and yelled a greeting.

  When the brass finally showed up with the psychiatrists the room was overflowing and loud.

  The Chief, a large man with a huge handlebar mustache, stood at the front of the table and motioned for quiet.

  “All right everyone, this is too many people to work with, so we are going to split you into two groups. Where’s our lead paramedics?”

  Emma and Jerry raised their hands.

  “Ok, Hill you’re with me, Mansko, you’re with Assistant Chief Stein.

  Jerry stood behind the assistant chief.

  “OK, we are splitting you up - Everyone on this side of the room, you go to Conference Room C. Everyone else, move these tables to the side and pull your chairs into a big circle.

  As the other group filed out, Emma noticed that Craig was supposed to go to Conference Room C but he didn’t, he stood up but started pulling the tables to the side. His arm muscles flexed underneath his form-fitting uniform shirt and she felt her insides go all gooey. What is wrong with you Hill! Shape up! She chastised herself mentally for her ongoing, unwanted attraction to this man.

  When they all started sitting down, Craig chose the chair right next to her. Again, her heart fluttered a little at his attention.

  Chief Turner grabbed a chair and turned it around backwards, in his characteristic “one of the guys” way. “OK group, the first thing I want to say is ‘great job’. You men and women did the city proud yesterday. You worked all day and all night without complaint and I have never, in all my years, seen a team do a better job. So thank you.”

  An awkward silence filled the room. If they had been a football team, maybe they would have cheered, or clapped, but they weren’t a football team, and people were hurt.

  “First round of business,” the chief continued, “We have 49 wounded. 28 ended up at Westwood General, 12 were taken to St Mary’s, and 9 went to Kaiser.”

  Emma noted the 49 wounded. Her chest tightened and she dug her fingernails into her palms. Did 5 people really die, or were his numbers off?

  “Of these 49, 38 of them have already been released and 11 are still receiving care in one of the hospitals.”

  He stopped and took a deep breath.

  “4 men and 1 woman died after arriving at the hospital. I am going to read their names and I need to know if anyone here knows them.”

  Emma’s felt pain in her palms and forced herself to relax her hands. 4 half-moon shapes remained etched into the meaty part of each from her nails. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She saw death every day, but it never stopped bothering her. Those people had been mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, sons, daughters, friends. And now they were gone. What she really wanted to know was what caused the explosion.

  Chief Turner read off the 5 names and looked around. No one in the group indicated they knew one of the dead.

  “Ok, let’s have a moment of silence for these fine people whose time on this earth is done.”

  The group bowed their heads together. Not a word was spoken.

  After a few moments the Chief went on. “The investigation into the explosion is ongoing. Early reports indicate that a pipe bomb was planted at the scene.”

  A bolt of sensation shot through Emma’s chest at the words “pipe bomb.” A few gasps peppered the room.

  Emma jumped to her feet. “Planted? Planted by who?”

  “Calm down Hill, sit down please. We don’t know by who. Once we finish our investigation it will be turned over to the police department.”

  Emma sank back into her chair. A pipe bomb? Why would anyone plant a pipe bomb in a factory that made baked goods? The thought made her sick to her stomach. 49 people hurt, 5 dead, not because of a stupid mistake, but because of malice. Because of evil. Because whoever would do that surely was evil.

  Emma only half heard the rest of what the Chief had to say. Her mind was turning this information over and over again. All she could think of was what had happened. Had she seen or heard anything that could be evidence? Was there any way that she could help bring the perpetrator to justice?

  Emma was not aware of Craig on her left, watching her intently. She had forgotten he existed for a few short minutes.

  The Chief stopped talking and people got up and started milling around. Emma looked up, trying to figure out what was said - what they were doing now.

  Craig touched her arm lightly. Tingles exploded from the spot and she jerked her head around to look at him. “He
y, want to be my partner?”

  “Partner, what?”

  “We are supposed to partner up and do some exercises now,” he whispered so nobody would hear that she hadn’t been listening.

  She smiled gratefully. “Yes,” she whispered back.

  “Ok, let’s take our chairs over into that corner.”

  They picked up their chairs and went to the corner. Emma felt shy, awkward. This seemed so intimate. Intimate. She would love to get intimate with this man. Her mind flashed to her vision. She felt almost sad that it had happened. Why couldn’t Craig be the man from her vision? Or why couldn’t she have had no vision and met Craig and been free to like him. Oh well, it would probably just end up like every other man she had tried to date after Norman. Horrible. No, she needed to stick with the plan, the vision - that’s the man who would be her rock, her superman, and give her the life she desired so badly. Mom, dad, a white picket fence, two kids, one cat, and one dog. A family who ate dinner together every night. No one ever disappeared or died or …

  Dr. Morgan, the psychiatrist, interrupted her thoughts.

  “Ok, everyone is going to share with their partner the worst thing they saw, and the hardest decision they had to make, and how that made them feel. Then switch and the other person shares the same thing.”

  “Do you want to go first?” Craig asked.

  “Sure. Ok, well …” Emma took a deep breath and thought hard. She knew this would be difficult, but she knew she needed to get it out too. “The worst thing I saw was the man who was sliced through the neck by the flying piece of metal. It was a clean slice but so deep. Almost to his spine. His friends were holding pressure on it when I got there, but when I saw the size of the puddle of blood around him, my mind signed his death warrant against my will. That was also the hardest decision I had to make. He was unconscious and his femoral pulse was barely there. The guy with the piece of metal sticking out of his chest was at least talking. And the woman who lost her feet? She was talking too. And by rights, I should have sent both of them on an ambulance first. Their chance of survival was greater, but time was still of the essence, you know?”