Call of Duty 02 - Sworn to Protect

by DiAnn Mills

Sandra had finished grinding coffee beans when she entered the kitchen. It smelled heavenly.

  “Bad night?” Sandra asked.

  “How’d you guess?”

  “Dark circles under your eyes, and I heard you in the kitchen at two thirty.” Sandra measured coffee into the filter. “Have the police caught the men who shot at you and Dr. Alex?”

  “No. Probably won’t either. The shooters’ car was found abandoned—and listed as stolen. You know my cynicism about the local police finding criminals ever since they gave up on finding who killed Toby.”

  “Some bad people are smart enough not to get caught.”

  “I’d rather think they are cocky and will one day make a mistake.”

  Sandra measured water and poured it into the coffeemaker. “Maybe so. I’m taking the precautions like you told me.”

  “Good. I wish I had a place to send Tiana until this is over. I’d rather err on being overprotective than make a serious mistake about her safety.”

  “I think you’re right.” Sandra stared out the window to the backyard. “Isn’t there anyone? an aunt or a cousin?”

  “No, but I’m thinking. If I don’t come up with someone by tonight, then I’ll look into hiring a bodyguard.”

  Danika reached into the cupboard for two cups, aligning herself with staying positive and trusting God for the outcome of all that beset her life. Alex had seemed like a blessing. . . .

  “Are you missing him?” Count on Sandra to read her thoughts.

  “I’ll get over it. Silly, don’t you think? A couple of dates, and I’m hooked like a fish.”

  “Do you want to tell me what he did?”

  Danika had already decided to move on with her life—and her emotions. “No point. He should have revealed a few things about himself before asking me out.”

  “Honesty is always the best way.”

  “The only way. I can’t tolerate deceit. He knew Toby and chose not to tell me.”

  Sandra tapped her chin. “Did he tell you why?”

  “No. Just confession and an apology. He claimed there were things he couldn’t tell me, just like there were things I couldn’t tell him.”

  “Maybe you should forgive but not be his girlfriend.”

  Danika hugged Sandra’s shoulders. “You’re right. It’s too soon after Toby to be thinking about another man. Thanks for helping me see things clearer.”

  “I wanted you to weigh your options.”

  Danika smiled at the cliché. If only her dilemma could be weighed on a balance, one side measuring decisions made and the other mysteries solved. The Border Patrol and Homeland Security dealt with safety issues for families. She’d talk to Chief Jimenez at the end of her shift to see if he could suggest a safe place for Tiana. But that meant strangers would be taking care of her, possibly people who didn’t know how to sign.

  What if those who’d tried to kill Danika weren’t apprehended quickly? She hated the thought of Tiana miserable and alone. But what choice did she have?

  A new thought swept through her. She could send Sandra with Tiana.

  * * *

  Alex didn’t know which was worse—staring at the ceiling at the hospital or staring at the ceiling in his house. Both bored him to near insanity. Mom had insisted on coming for a visit, and he’d given in. She planned to arrive midafternoon. Unlike most moms, she’d defied aging. At sixty-eight, she walked five miles a day, pumped iron, and believed in holistic medicine. She kept up-to-date with politics and fashion and had a definite opinion about everything, along with a fearless faith. She’d be entertainment for sure, even if he had to eat tofu and soy yogurt.

  Regret once again smacked him in the face. If only he’d been up-front with Danika and hadn’t destroyed his relationship with her before it really began. Strange how he met her and was immediately attracted to her. A lot of good that did now. At least Ed thought it was only a matter of time before the authorities had the evidence to prosecute Jacob as the rogue agent.

  His cell phone rang, alerting him to a call from the hospital. How nice to be needed, even when he was high on pain meds and waiting for his mother to arrive.

  He recognized the nurse’s voice from the ER. Indispensable, as far as he was concerned. Elaine would break every rule in the book to ensure a patient’s care. Just like he would.

  “Sorry to bother you, Dr. Price, but a woman is here with a little boy. Says only you can look at him. Won’t talk to any of the other doctors.”

  “That’s because I’m the best.”

  “I see your surgery didn’t do a thing for your humility.” Elaine’s sarcasm came with her sense of humor.

  “Sorry, the pain meds have me a bit crazy.”

  “You sound normal to me.”

  He chuckled. “Guess I had that coming.”

  “You did. Can you take this number? It’s her cell phone. She’s waiting outside for your call.”

  The two bantered a few more minutes before Elaine claimed she had work to do.

  Alex disconnected the call and turned his attention to the patient who needed help. He pressed in the numbers.

  A woman answered in Spanish, and he replied in her native language. “This is Dr. Price. Can I help you?”

  “This is Cira Ramos.”

  Alex hadn’t heard from Cira since shortly after Toby’s death. At the time, she planned to take her infant son and flee to Houston, far away from a woman who had fronted half of the money Cira needed to cross the border and then abused her by forcing her into slavelike labor. “Yes, Cira. I thought you left McAllen?”

  “My grandfather became ill and needed me to care for him.”

  “Are you safe?”

  “I don’t know. I’m working and being careful.”

  “Good. Are you sick?”

  “No, it’s Mickey. He’s very hot and has a horrible cough, and his chest rattles. Can you see him?”

  “I’m not doing so well either. There are other doctors at the clinic who can help you.”

  “I’m afraid. Can you come just to check Mickey?” She wept, the sobs evident in every word.

  Alex hesitated. Already his leg had started to throb, and he couldn’t take the pain meds for another hour. What a wimp. Hadn’t he dedicated his life to helping the sick? He could call a taxi and ask the driver to wait while he examined Cira’s little boy. Maybe this time she would tell him who had provided her front money. If Jacob Morales was involved somehow, then Ed’s case was closed and Danika no longer had to worry about someone stalking her. “Wait for me there. It will take about thirty minutes.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Alex. God bless you.”

  Alex smiled and reached for his crutches. He’d sneak into the hospital, treat Mickey, and sneak back out.

  When Alex’s taxi arrived at the hospital, Cira stood outside the ER doors holding the sick toddler, her anchor baby. Mickey was born in the United States, but his mother could be deported if caught.

  Cira’s gaze darted about as though the woman who had held her captive might suddenly emerge from the many cars moving in and out of the parking lot. Poor girl. She had nowhere to turn with only fear in her path. Perhaps he could convince her to take her grandfather to Houston.

  Climbing out of the taxi sapped his energy level. The driver assisted him and offered him a tissue to wipe the perspiration dripping down his face.

  “I’m a doctor here,” Alex said, once he caught his breath. “I have one patient to see; then I’ll need a ride home. Can you wait?”

  The driver—a short, round man—pointed to Alex’s leg. “You’re the one who should see a doctor.”

  “Already did.”

  “What did you do, man? I know you weren’t skiing. Must have been a woman. What she’d do, shoot you?” The man grinned broadly revealing several missing teeth.

  “Would you believe a drive-by?”

  The man shook his head. “Not in your neighborhood. Now, mine is different.”

  “The kind with safe houses?”

&n
bsp; The driver handed Alex his crutches. “That’s a good one. I’ll have to remember it.”

  Cira’s face was pulled taut, no doubt from worry. She saw him and gasped. “What happened to you? You . . . you are very hurt.”

  “Just a little surgery on my leg.”

  “I had no idea. I’m so selfish.”

  Mickey started to whimper, and she soothed him with soft whispers.

  A hot arrow of pain shot up his leg. “Let’s get this little guy fixed up.”

  She followed him inside, and he hoped no one saw him.

  “Dr. Price—” Elaine rounded the ER desk, hands on her full hips, reminding Alex of a prison guard—“do you have pea soup for brains?”

  He winced. “I’m here for one patient. You know; duty calls.”

  “Right.” She looked at Cira and greeted her in Spanish. “I had a bet you wouldn’t stay at home one afternoon. Looks like I won ten bucks.”

  Elaine took care of Cira’s paperwork while Alex examined Mickey. His fever spiked at 104 degrees, and his chest rattled like a baby’s toy.

  “Cira, I need to admit Mickey. I don’t need a chest X-ray to diagnose him with pneumonia.”

  “Admit him? Can’t you give him medicine?”

  How many times had he heard this question from mothers who couldn’t bear to leave their children in the hospital? “I can, but he needs breathing treatments, an IV, and the care of nurses to get better. He’s very sick.”

  Alex understood her hesitation on another level. He’d treated her when she’d been beaten. “If your son isn’t hospitalized with special medicines, he might die.”

  She swiped at the tears dripping onto her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Alex took a deep breath. An idea occurred to him. “We won’t use your name or Mickey’s.”

  She nodded. “She wouldn’t be able to find me.”

  If only he could secure the woman’s name. “That’s right. Both you and Mickey would be safe. Are you ready to tell me the woman’s name?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  Alex pressed his lips together to keep from asking more questions and upsetting Cira. “I’ll make the arrangements.” He remembered Rita and realized her beating and death might have a connection to Cira.

  Chapter 33

  Marvelous Truth, confront us at every turn, in every guise.

  Denise Levertov

  “So my problem is finding a home for Tiana until the shooter’s found,” Danika concluded. She’d spent time all day rehearsing how to tell the chief about her problem. Of course the shooter and Toby’s killer could all be related to Jacob.

  Jimenez and his unreadable face. Drove her nuts. His scrutiny had a way of boring a hole through her, as though he could analyze her thoughts. “I’ll make a few calls to see if we can find a solution. A bodyguard may be the best idea.”

  “Finding the shooters has my vote.”

  “I agree, but until then we need to be realistic. You said your nanny could accompany her. What about putting them in an apartment in Houston or Austin?”

  That idea hadn’t occurred to her. Must be why he was the chief and she rode the line. “Let me think about it. You may be on to something.”

  He smiled. “I’m trying my best to keep you and your daughter safe. I know how I’d feel if my wife and sons were in danger. Someone would have to scrape the blood and guts off the walls once I was finished with them.” He shook his head. “Right now I’m furious at an elementary school.”

  She lifted a brow.

  “My youngest son—the one in first grade—was placed in a bilingual class because he couldn’t speak Spanish. This is an English-speaking country. I won’t tolerate having my child forced to learn Spanish because that’s all the other kids can speak.”

  “Ouch.” She felt sorry for the school system.

  “I phoned them earlier, and my wife is there now.” He picked up his pen and tapped it on the desk. “I wanted to take care of it, but she talked me out of it. Anyway, my point is, I know how you feel when it comes to protecting kids. Are you keeping your weapon with you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Any contact from Jacob, or has his daughter been found?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good agent before all the tragedy hit.”

  All of Jacob’s good and bad qualities had been said. She’d stopped concerning herself with his problems and instead concentrated on Barbara and the need to find Nadine. Children were always a priority over adults. Jacob didn’t want help, or he’d have stayed in counseling and not gotten involved with the wrong people.

  Guess I do believe he’s guilty. But could he have killed Toby too? The mere thought left her running for the Lord, not knowing whether to ask for forgiveness or help to accept the truth.

  “I’m flipping shifts to nights soon, and the thought of Tiana alone with her nanny during those hours really bothers me.”

  “We’ll have the situation handled soon.” He cleared his throat. “I appreciate your taking the polygraph.”

  “I don’t want any doubts about my integrity, sir. I hate the sense of helplessness that has filled me for two years. I’ve looked everywhere for more clues about who killed Toby, and it’s been nothing but dead ends. I refuse to sit back and allow the same nightmare to destroy me.” She leaned forward. “It’s not happening. My daughter will have a mother. I deserve to be part of the solution. Do you believe Jacob is the rogue?”

  “I can’t give you classified information, especially in an ongoing investigation. You know that.”

  “Whoever is out to get me is banking on my resignation or my death, and he’s throwing enough obstacles in my way for it to happen. Toby is dead, my niece is missing, I’ve been threatened, Alex is in the hospital, and I’m sick with worry about my daughter.”

  “You’re not alone, Morales. We all want this ended.”

  * * *

  Sandra carried an armload of light blue towels to her bathroom and set them inside the linen closet. While Tiana slept, she’d tossed in the last load of dirty clothes and vacuumed the living room. Jose had come by to clean out the flower beds. He said Danika had requested it, but she hadn’t said anything to her. No matter. Jose was here and Sandra enjoyed taking a peek out the window at him working.

  All the past came rolling back—her feelings for him and how they’d gotten along so well until Linda stole him away. Maybe she and Jose had needed distance to come back together in a stronger relationship.

  She heard a thump and glanced at her watch. Tiana had not slept long, and she’d played hard outside all morning. Sandra pulled on the dust ruffle of her bed and made her way toward the other side of the house.

  The noise captured her attention again, but it was coming from Danika’s room. She must be home early—hopefully not sick. But her dear friend had been through so much lately, and having it all make her sick would not be a surprise.

  Jose emerged from Danika’s bedroom.

  Sandra’s heart sped past shock to anger. “What were you doing in there?”

  A dimpled grin met her. “I was looking for you.”

  “You can’t ever come in the house. Didn’t Lucy give you instructions?”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  “We both could lose our jobs.” She took his arm. “Please, if Tiana wakens and finds you here, she could tell her mother.”

  “I thought she was deaf.”

  “She is, but she talks with her hands.” Sandra hurried him down the hallway to the kitchen. Then she recalled the sounds coming from Danika’s bedroom. “What were you doing in there?”

  He shrugged. “Just looking. I’ve never been in a nice house like this and wanted to see what it looked like.”

  Sandra sensed the blood leaving her face. “If I lost my job, Lucy would destroy my documentation papers—and any chance of getting them for you.”

  “Oh, I promise I’ll never come inside again without your or Mrs. M
orales’s permission.” He picked up his pace and hurried outside.

  Sandra caught her breath. She trembled while fear refused to leave her. What if he’d stolen something? She’d check for tracked-in dirt and grass—and for anything missing.

  * * *

  “I’ve already been to the grocery,” Mom said from Alex’s kitchen. “And the supply of organic vegetables was fairly decent.”

  “I’m starved.” Alex could only imagine what she’d concoct for him to eat while she was there. “I skipped lunch to see a patient.”

  She joined him in the living room. “What were you doing seeing a patient in your condition?”

  “I wondered about that at the time. Anyway, I’m hungry now.”

  “Son, skipping meals does not lead to good nutrition. Don’t you have PowerBars for those times when you need an energy boost?”

  Pushing Mom’s buttons was good for a laugh. “Snickers bars are pretty good.”

  She wagged a finger at him. “While I’m here, you will eat nutritious meals. We’ve got to get you on your feet—so to speak. Dinner will be salmon and steamed veggies.”

  “Don’t forget the white bread and apple pie.”

  She tossed him one of her menacing mom scowls, but it didn’t work. He blew her a kiss, and they both laughed.

  She sat on the sofa beside him, which he’d crowned the official couch potato site for the evening. “Are you seeing anybody?”

  Typical mom. “I thought I was, but I blew it.”

  “How’s that? Working too many hours to suit her?”

  “Not at all. She works as much as I do. She’s a Border Patrol agent.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  “It is, which is how I blew the relationship.”

  “Tell me about it.” Her tone softened.

  He was far too old to bring his love life to Mama. But his testosterone-pumped friends didn’t need to hear about his wounded heart. “Are you going to bribe me with chocolate chip cookies and cold milk?”

  She tossed him a grin. “Organic graham crackers and soy?”