The Recovery Assignment

by Alison Roberts

  ‘Yeah, well. I was feeling miserable. Even though it was a bad relationship, it was still hard getting out of it. Of course I wasn’t feeling like rushing into another one.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘It’s been six months. I’m over it. If I find someone who wants me as a woman instead of a mother figure cum housekeeper then I’m quite prepared to try again.’

  ‘That’s the difference,’ Charlotte said slowly. ‘What you had wasn’t good enough. You’re bound to find something better. What Jamie and I had was perfect. I couldn’t replace that no matter how hard I looked.’

  ‘So you won’t even try?’

  The head shake was decisive. ‘I’m not remotely interested. I’m a career-woman now. Did Officer Hawkins make any comments about multi-tasking along with mind-changing prerogatives?’

  ‘He wasn’t thrilled with the notion of trying to do two jobs at once.’ Laura smiled at her friend. ‘But I’m sure if he repeats any of it in front of you, he’ll live to regret it.’

  Sherry-coloured eyes gleamed. ‘I’m looking forward to starting this job even more now.’ Charlotte flicked the end of a long, glossy black braid over her shoulder. ‘A challenge is precisely what I’m hoping for.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  IT WAS going to be a challenge all right.

  The bid to assert control was right there in the moment of introduction. Senior Sergeant Lance Currie spotted Owen Hawkins in the corridor ahead of them as he escorted Charlotte to her office.

  ‘Hawk—slow down for a minute. I want you to meet your new partner.’

  Hawk’s reluctance to be distracted from an important mission was clearly evident as the tall figure stopped abruptly, hesitated for just a fraction of a second and then turned. A disinterested expression faltered as he caught sight of Charlotte but he collected himself quickly.

  Charlotte gave no hint that she had observed and interpreted his astonishment. She was used to the effect she often had on men. The only effect it ever had on her these days was to harden her resolve to prove herself professionally. In this case, however, it could be to her advantage. Owen Hawkins might find her sexually attractive. She could easily score a few points in any bid for equality by letting him know she wouldn’t be returning the interest.

  ‘Hawk, I’d like to introduce you to Charlotte Laing.’ Lance’s raised eyebrows suggested that he might have seen that flash of involuntary reaction as well. ‘Charlie, this is Owen Hawkins.’

  ‘Charlotte.’ The tone of the surprisingly deep voice was cool. There was no suggestion of a smile and the grip of his hand was a shade too firm. Charlotte squeezed right back.

  ‘Owen.’ She smiled politely. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ The use of his real name was deliberate. Nicknames denoted a relationship of some kind. They needed an invitation for use unless one wanted to appear patronising, and Charlotte already had the distinct impression that trying to patronise this man would get her absolutely nowhere. She held the eye contact unwaveringly, however. He looked fierce rather than mean, she decided. Focussed. Intelligent and…wary. ‘Call me Charlie,’ she added, injecting a little warmth into her smile as she withdrew her hand. ‘Everybody does.’

  She expected a reciprocal invitation to call him ‘Hawk’ but annoyingly it was not forthcoming. As a means of putting her in her place it was a subtle move and Hawk managed to make it seem an oversight by changing the subject.

  ‘Sorry to be in a rush but I’m on my way to a job. I’ll give you the grand tour when I get back.’

  ‘Take Charlie with you.’ Lance’s suggestion was more like a command. ‘She’s starting work today so we may as well throw her in the deep end.’

  Apparent analysis of the pros and cons took only a microsecond. ‘Sure. Why not?’

  And Hawk was moving again. His long legs covered the length of the corridor with a speed that would have made anyone else appear to scurry. With this man the movement gave the impression of calm assurance. Charlotte was grateful her own legs were long enough to keep up without effort. Hawk was only a couple of inches taller than her 5’ 11”. She stayed just half a pace behind Hawk, however. That way she could watch him unobtrusively. She was adding tiny snippets of information with every glance. Later she would be able to collate them and decide just what she thought of her new partner.

  It was no wonder Laura had been intimidated. Charlotte hadn’t seen him smile yet and that didn’t give any impression of warmth. He exuded assurance but it was too soon to make any judgement on whether that tipped over into arrogance. Charlotte was not going to make any error in underestimating his intelligence either. The way his face was put together—the clear, strong lines of his features and the impression that nothing escaped those dark eyes—was enough to warn her that she might well have met her match on an intellectual level.

  ‘This way.’ Hawk pushed open a smoke stop door and led Charlotte on a brisk journey down several flights of concrete stairs.

  The intimidation must have been enough to blind Laura to the man’s physical attributes, Charlotte decided. He looked as though he had stepped, temporarily, out of the leading role of some adventure movie. A rugged hero who could save the day and any damsels in distress along the way. The crisp, white shirt and dark trousers of his uniform hung and clung to a lean but powerful frame, and Charlotte was getting a good view as she trotted down the stairs behind him. The awareness of such masculinity was irritating. It wasn’t attraction, just…awareness, but that in itself was disconcerting. Easily dismissed, though. Charlotte hadn’t been remotely attracted to any man since Jamie. And she wasn’t about to be now.

  Hawk held the heavy door at the end of the next short corridor open and waited for Charlotte to pass him. She did so without thanking him for the courtesy. Would he have done that if he was leading the way for a male colleague?

  ‘My squad car’s here.’ Hawk wrenched the door open. ‘Our car,’ he corrected himself grudgingly. He glanced briefly at Charlotte—the first eye contact since their introduction. ‘You do drive?’ he queried.

  ‘Of course.’ Charlotte slid into the passenger seat of the station wagon and reached for her safety belt.

  ‘Advanced driving, I meant. Have you had emergency response training?’

  ‘Of course,’ Charlotte repeated. ‘I’d hardly be in a position to do this job if I hadn’t, would I?’

  Hawk didn’t bother responding. He activated the car’s beacons and had the siren going as soon as they cleared the ramp from the basement garage. More than one car on the busy road skidded slightly as the drivers braked hard. Hawk slipped the squad car into the gap and then cruised into the middle of the road, putting his foot down on the accelerator as he shot forward between the opposing lines of early morning, inner-city traffic. He knew precisely how well he could do this and he knew he was better than most. Even well-seasoned officers were known to go a little pale when they were his passengers in an emergency response and Hawk had no inclination to tone things down for Charlie.

  He stole a sideways glance after negotiating a particularly narrow gap between a crowded bus and a concrete-mixing truck. The faces flashing past in the bus had shown horror at the gap of only inches between the vehicles. Charlotte, however, looked unperturbed.

  ‘What are we going to?’ she asked.

  ‘Car versus lamppost that appears to have been fatal. There was bystander CPR on the driver getting started when the call came in.’

  ‘Driver collapse, maybe?’

  ‘I don’t make assumptions before I arrive at a scene.’

  ‘Do you need a map reference?’ Charlotte’s tone was now as clipped as his had been.

  ‘No.’

  Hawk concentrated on negotiating a rapid route through increasingly snarled-up traffic. An accident at this time of day had a surprisingly wide-reaching flow-on effect. Or maybe it wasn’t so surprising. Throw a stationary fire truck or two and an ambulance into even a three-laned highway and there wasn’t much space to channel traffic through. There w
ould be police cars as well with officers trying to keep the scene clear and directing irritated motorists to a new route if possible.

  Hawk was feeling a little irritated himself. The early callout had presented a welcome opportunity to delay the inevitable meeting with his new partner. He hadn’t expected the mid-corridor ambush but he knew better than to refuse a direction from Lance Currie unless he had a very good reason. His boss had held the senior position at Grisham Street station for many years. He was known behind his back as Elsie, and the nickname was appropriate for more than his initials. Currie was a bit of an old woman when it came to following regulations, observing protocols and dotting every ‘i’ on paperwork. If he’d decided Hawk was to take his new partner out on the job then it wouldn’t have been worth the repercussions if he’d refused.

  Charlotte Laing had been even more unexpected than the ambush. Any hope that the potential distraction of working with a woman would be mitigated by her unattractiveness had been felled in a somewhat gut-wrenching swoop. This woman would turn heads anywhere. The only saving grace was that she was totally unlike the type of women Hawk preferred. He liked his female companions to be fun and they were invariably blonde, curvy and at least a little bit bouncy. Fluff, in other words. Charlotte Laing was as tall and slim as a pencil. Long, straight black hair twisted into a rope that only narrowed as it reached her waist. Her features were defined enough to appear almost sharp and her olive skin hinted at some exotic bloodline in her family tree. She looked, Hawk had to admit, like some native American princess and the overall effect was unusual enough to have been startling.

  Hawk turned off the siren as their progress slowed to a crawl. He eased the car onto a footpath to skirt a line of cars that had no hope of manoeuvring to let them through. Pedestrians flattened themselves against a fence as a blip on the siren warned them what was happening. Hawk could see the flashing lights of other emergency vehicles in the distance but even now it was hard to concentrate solely on the task ahead of them.

  It was more than irritating. Hawk had only been in her company for about ten minutes and it was already proving difficult to fight the distraction. He’d never seen anyone like her. On the positive side, being thrown into a job with her meant that he couldn’t escape. The startling effect would wear off more quickly and at least he knew there was no possibility of being distracted by a genuine attraction to the woman. No hint of bounce there. Or even a sense of femininity. Charlotte’s clear, golden-brown eyes advertised steely determination and a brain that was active enough to mean he needed to stay on his toes. That game-playing scenario with their names hadn’t gone over her head and Hawk had the uncomfortable feeling that he hadn’t actually scored any points at all.

  A police officer let Hawk’s vehicle through the cordon and pointed towards a potential parking area behind a fire truck. An ambulance was parked at right angles to the fire appliance, its back doors open towards the car crumpled against the concrete post. Hawk glanced at the body lying between the ambulance officers. The man’s clothing had been cut to expose his chest. A male paramedic was taping an IV line to one arm. He lifted his hands and leaned back on his heels as the other paramedic pressed paddles onto the victim’s chest. Hawk grimaced at the convulsive jerk their patient made.

  ‘Doesn’t look very good,’ he muttered.

  ‘They’re defibrillating him so at least there’s some sign of cardiac electrical activity.’

  ‘What?’ Hawk’s head swivelled. He’d forgotten he wasn’t with someone who knew as little as he did about medical matters. ‘I thought they only zapped people if the heart had stopped. Flat-line stuff.’

  ‘Shocking someone can only interrupt and potentially reset the electrical activity. If there’s a flat line on the screen it means there’s no signal present so shocking someone isn’t going to do anything other than burn a bit of heart muscle.’

  ‘Oh.’ Hawk didn’t enjoy feeling ignorant. In future, he was going to keep his mouth shut and save himself a lecture.

  ‘The heart has stopped in that it’s not functioning as a pump, though,’ Charlotte added. ‘It’s usually fibrillating, which is a kind of fast wiggle that can’t produce an output—which is what creates a pulse.’

  ‘So that’s why it’s called a defibrillator.’ The annoyance of having his lack of knowledge exposed was replaced by a flash of satisfaction in learning something new. Hawk shook his head. ‘I’d never even thought about it.’

  ‘Why should you have? We gain expertise in what we’re trained in.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Hawk’s glance at Charlotte was speculative. ‘So are we going to get on with our job or do you want to go and help out with the victim?’

  ‘That’s my flatmate, Laura,’ Charlotte responded. ‘She and her partner, Tim, are both paramedics. They know what they’re doing.’

  ‘What are they doing?’ Hawk stared through the wind-screen as he opened his door. He hadn’t recognised the paramedics who had been listening to his talk yesterday. Funny, Laura looked far less mousy performing her duties. She looked competent…and busy.

  ‘Laura’s intubating him. It secures the airway and makes breathing for the patient far more effective.’ Charlotte pushed her door shut. ‘Let’s see if they have anything to tell us before we start on the scene, shall we?’

  Hawk usually stayed well away from any paramedics when they were obviously occupied with trying to save someone’s life. His protocol dictated reporting in to any senior police or fire officer on scene to start gathering information, but Charlotte had already stepped towards the paramedics and Laura had spotted her.

  ‘Hi, Charlie! You’re on the job early.’

  ‘No time like the present. This is my partner, Owen.’

  Laura tied the tape securing the endotracheal tube in place. She attached the ambubag and then glanced up briefly as she pulled her stethoscope from around her neck.

  ‘We met yesterday.’ She nodded. ‘Hi, Owen.’

  Hawk simply nodded. He hated being called Owen.

  ‘Do you need a hand?’ Charlotte asked.

  ‘You could bag him while I draw up some drugs…if Owen can spare you, that is. Back-up should only be a minute or two away.’

  Charlotte glanced at Hawk, clearly requesting permission to give assistance, and to his surprise, Hawk found himself nodding. It was only for a minute or two after all and he could easily use the time to gain an overall impression of the scene.

  Laura was silent for a few seconds as she squeezed the ambubag and checked for air entry by listening over both sides of the man’s chest with her stethoscope. ‘We’ll go into Emergency under CPR if necessary but I’m still hopeful. It could be that he was unconscious for a while before actually arresting. Bystander CPR was initiated quickly and he was still in coarse VF by the time we arrived.’

  ‘VF?’ Hawk couldn’t help exposing his ignorance again.

  ‘Ventricular fibrillation.’ Charlotte gave him a quick glance. ‘The worst kind of wiggle. The finer it is, the closer to a flat line it is. If it’s coarse there’s more chance of converting it to a useful rhythm.’ She turned back to Laura. ‘Was the arrest witnessed?’

  ‘Kind of.’ Laura’s partner, Tim, had restarted chest compressions. ‘The car was seen to pick up speed as it came downhill and it veered across the other two lanes and left the road. It cut one car off and the witness said that the driver appeared to be slumped over the wheel.’

  ‘Who was the witness?’

  ‘That guy over there in the pinstripes. He was the one who made the triple-one call. He started the CPR as well as soon as they got him out of the car. He’s a bit shaken up,’ Laura added. Her smile at Charlotte was sympathetic. ‘You might like to tell him what a great job he did.’

  ‘I’ll go and talk to him,’ Hawk said. Another ambulance was pulling up and he felt out of place. So much for his statements from only yesterday about being on the same team and the desirability of knowing as much as possible about how each branch of the emergenc
y services did their jobs. If Hawk had been that interested in what paramedics did, he would have become one himself, instead of joining the police force. Knowing each other’s jobs too well meant that it was possible to step in and assist instead of getting on with what they were supposed to be doing.

  As Charlotte was demonstrating so ably. A second shock had elicited a normal but very slow heartbeat. Charlotte was handling supplies from the paramedic kit with the ease of complete familiarity. Her long fingers were snapping ampoules and drawing up drugs into syringes. Hawk found himself mesmerised for a split second. Her fingers were as long and elegant as the rest of this woman. The flash of curiosity regarding what they might feel like touching his body came from absolutely nowhere and it was as startling as it was disturbing.

  It was easy to summon anger to blanket such an undesirable emotion. This was precisely what Hawk had feared might happen. His partner was doing someone else’s job and he was being left to work alone on the tasks she had actually been employed to do.

  Except that she was only a step behind him by the time Hawk had conferred briefly with the scene commander and opened the back hatch of the squad car to get the equipment he needed. He picked up a digital camera and a can of spray paint.

  ‘Have you spoken to the witness?’

  ‘Not yet. There’s pressure on to shift the wreck and get traffic flowing. I’m going to mark its position and get some photos before the tow truck moves in.’ Hawk glanced up as the ambulance rolled past. The vehicle’s beacons were flashing blue and red and its siren was activated as soon as it cleared the cordoned-off area. The noise was deafening for a moment and Hawk frowned.

  ‘What’s with the siren? That’s not usual procedure for a return trip, is it?’

  ‘It’s a status-one patient. Post-arrest.’ Charlotte told him. ‘They need to get him to hospital as quickly as possible.’

  ‘Is he going to survive?’

  ‘I hope so,’ Charlotte said quietly. ‘His rhythm looked good and he was breathing spontaneously by the time he was loaded. We found his driver’s licence,’ she added. ‘His name is Duncan Thomson. He’s only forty-four.’